THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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Inferniitbnal  ^triixatinn  Strics 

EDITED    BY 

WILLIAM   T.   HARRIS,   A.M.,   LL.  D. 


Volume  XLIII 


INTERNATIONAL  EDUCATION  SERIES 


THE    STUDY 
OF   THE    CHILD 


A    BRIEF    TREATISE    ON    THE 
PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  CHILD 

WITH   SUGGESTIONS  FOR 
TEACHERS,   STUDENTS,   AND    PARENTS 


BY 

A.  R.  TAYLOR,  Pn.  D. 

PRESIDENT  OF  THE   STATE  NORMAL  SCHOOL 
EMPORIA,   KANSAS 


^   2.  f  7 


NEW    YORK 

D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1899 


Copyright,  1898, 
By  a.   R.   TAYLOR. 


Electrotyped  and  Printed 
AT  THE  Appleton  Press,  U.  S.  a. 


LB 


EDITOK'S  PKEFACE. 


In  my  preface  to  this  sound  and  wholesome 
book  on  child  study  I  will  present  some  thoughts 
on  the  symbolic  and  conventional  stages  of  mind 
in  childhood  and  on  the  process  by  which  the  child 
outgrows  the  symbolic  stage  of  mind.  I  will  then 
consider  the  doctrine  that  concepts  are  mental 
images  and  bring  forward  the  theory  that  they 
are  not  mental  images  but  definitions,  and  con- 
clude by  discussing  imitation  as  the  chief  agtivity 
r\of  the  child  in  play  and  point  out  the  change  by 
^  which  it  becomes  originality. 

The  earlier  period  of  infancy,  say  up  to  the 

\  age  of  six,  with  average  children  has  been  called 

*    the  symbolic  stage,  while  the  later  stage,  which 

^    begins  somewhere  about  six  and  lasts  through  life, 

is  called  the  "  conventional  "  stage. 

We  commonly  use  the  word  syniholic  in  a  re- 
stricted sense — namely,  to  signify  the  use  of  some 
material  object  to  present  an  invisible  spiritual  ob- 
ject. The  wind  blows  and  shows  power.  It  can 
not  be  seen,  and  yet  it  moves  things  that  can  be 
seen.  The  breath  too  is  a  sort  of  wind,  invisible 
and  yet  powerful.  The  soul  moves  the  body  and 
yet  is  not  seen;  it  is  a  sort  of  wind;  it  is  the 


vi  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

breath.  Such  was  the  infantile  way  of  thinking. 
Anima,  the  breath,  was  used  to  symbolize  the  sovil. 
Its  root  is  a  word  signifying  the  blowing  of  the 
wind. 

The  constant  use  of  the  symbol  tends  to  con- 
vert it  into  a  conventional  sign  of  the  spiritual 
meaning.  Anima  at  first  conveyed  the  idea  of 
breath,  before  passing  to  that  of  soul.  The  mind 
gradually  shortened  its  contemplation  of  the  phys- 
ical meaning  and  prolonged  its  stay  on  the  spir- 
itual meaning  and  laid  greater  stress  on  it.  By 
and  by  it  forgot  altogether  the  physical  or  mate- 
rial meaning,  and  went  from  the  word  directly  to 
the  idea  of  vital  energy  moving  the  body  and  pos- 
sessing thought  and  feeling.  So  at  last  the  word 
anima  came  to  be  the  conventional  sign  for  soul 
and  lost  its  symbolic  use.  The  material  meaning 
was  forgotten. 

With  increasing  strength  of  mind  the  child 
grasps  relations  more  and  more  fully,  and  by  this 
his  conceptions  become  less  and  less  mere  pictures. 
This  is  the  way  that  he  outgrows  the  symbolic 
stage  of  thought. 

To  illustrate  this  process  of  growth,  consider 
the  chain  of  causality  involved  in  thinking  the  fa- 
miliar object  hread.  This  illustration  is  used  by 
Professor  Noire  to  explain  apperception.  Going 
backward  toward  the  origin  of  bread  we  have  suc- 
cessive steps  of  baking,  kneading  the  dough,  mix- 
ing the  meal  or  fiour  with  yeast,  lard,  butter,  and 
other  ingredients,  the  grinding  of  the  grain  and 
sifting  the  meal,  the  harvesting  of  the  grain  with 
all  its  details  of  cutting,  binding  sheaves,  thresh- 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  vii 

ing,  etc.,  the  earlier  processes  of  plowing,  harrow- 
ing, sowing  the  grain,  its  growth  dependent  on 
rain  and  sunshine.  Each  one  of  these  links  in 
the  chain  has  side  relations  to  other  chains  of 
causality;  for  example,  the  yeast  put  into  the 
bread  connects  it  with  hops  or  some  other  ferment 
or  effervescent,  the  lard  connects  bread  with  the  se- 
ries of  ideas  involved  in  pork-raising,  the  salt  with 
salt  manufacture,  the  baking  Avith  the  structure 
of  the  oven  and  the  fuel.  The  retrograde  series 
toward  the  origin  is  matched  with  a  progressive 
series  toward  the  future  use  of  the  bread.  There  is 
the  preparation  for  the  table,  the  set  meals,  the 
eating  and  digestion,  the  sustenance  of  life,  the 
strength  acquired,  the  work  accomplished  by 
means  of  it,  etc. 

This  chain  of  causation  is  symbolized  in  the 
story  of  the  House  that  Jack  Built  and  similar 
inventions. 

In  play  the  child  lets  one  thing  stand  for  an- 
other, and  "  makes  believe,"  for  instance,  that 
this  mud  is  dough;  it  can  be  dried  or  baked  too. 
But  here  the  chain  of  causality  departs  from  that 
of  bread.  The  child  can  not  eat  the  mud  loaf. 
The  mud  was  not  made  of  meal,  flour,  yeast,  lard, 
and  salt  like  dough. 

The  child  begins  play  by  making  believe  that 
something  is  something  else,  when  there  is  very 
little  resemblance.  It  is  nearly  all  make-believe 
at  first.*  But  he  makes  progress  by  demanding 
an  increase  of  resemblance.  He  takes  any  stick 
for  a  horse  at  first;  then  he  prefers  a  stick  with 
a  horse's  head.     Then  no  stick  will  do,  but  he 


viii  THE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

must  have  a  hobbyhorse  on  rockers,  with  saddle  and 
bridle,  and  he  imitates  a  gallop  by  rocking  to  and 
fro.  His  enjoyment  of  his  play  was  greatest  when 
he  had  the  most  make-believe  in  it.  In  proportion 
as  he  introduces  real  steps  of  causality  he  loses 
the  educative  effect  of  play  and  he  gets  less  amuse- 
ment from  it.  For  his  enjoyment  and  educational 
advantage  is  proportioned  to  the  amount  his  im- 
agination is  exercised.  When  he  receives  a  fin- 
ished hobbyhorse,  with  real  saddle  and  bridle  and 
other  completed  reproductions  of  the  real  horse, 
there  is  less  for  his  imagination.  He  soon  wearies 
of  the  finished,  elaborate  plaything. 

The  child  at  first  understands  a  very  small 
fragment  of  the  entire  process  of  production  of  a 
thing.  He  pretends  that  a  crooked  stick  is  a 
scythe.  But  he  is  helped  by  this  plaything  to 
understand  what  is  necessary  for  the  real  object, 
the  scythe.  It  must  have  a  blade,  and  he  has  a 
wooden  one  fastened  to  his  crooked  stick.  Then 
he  becomes  impressed  with  the  necessity  of  having 
a  blade  that  will  cut.  If  he  gets  this  he  gets  a 
real  scythe,  and  his  play  has  converted  itself  into 
work. 

It  is  the  dialectic  process  of  play  that  it  end 
by  becoming  work.  Carry  out  the  practice  of 
anything  and  its  natural  results  are  its  dialectic. 
The  child  starts  with  a  stick  for  a  horse  and  ends 
only  with  getting  a  real  horse  to  ride  and  drive. 
There  were  many  steps  on  the  way:  First  a 
horse's  head  to  his  stick,  then  a  bridle  and  a  whip, 
then  a  chair  represents  a  horse  and  wagon,  then 
a  playmate  is  harnessed  as  a  horse,  then  a  hobby- 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  jx 

horse  with  all  the  limbs  of  a  horse  and  with  a 
close  imitation  of  external  appearance,  then  per- 
haps a  dog  or  a  goat  harnessed  to  a  toy  wagon, 
then  the  real  horse. 

All  the  steps  in  the  ascent  involve  new  con- 
cepts of  what  is  necessary  to  the  real  causality. 
In  a  causation  series  the  child  can  now  think  by 
definitions  and  not  merely  by  pictures.  This  mat- 
ter of  thinking-by-definitions  ought  to  be  carefully 
studied  by  the  teacher  in  the  primary  school. 

The  belief  that  concepts  or  general  notions 
are  mental  images  is  very  prevalent  among  psy- 
chologists. But  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say 
that  general  notions  are  not  mental  images  so 
much  as  definitions.  A  definition  must  state 
an  identity  with  something  else,  and  a  differ- 
ence. In  a  mere  mental  picture  identity  and  dif- 
ference are  not  distinctly  brought  to  attention. 
In  the  symbolic  stage  of  the  mind  the  distinction 
between  the  particular  individual  and  the  general 
class  is  not  fully  developed.  ^Yhen  the  child 
plays  or  makes  believe  that  this  stick  is  a  horse, 
the  identity  is  brought  out,  but  the  difference  is 
kept  out  of  sight  and  ignored.  AYhen  the  soul  is 
compared  to  breath  and  the  breath  is  made  a  sym- 
bol of  the  soul,  a  slender  thread  of  identity  is 
brought  into  prominence  and  the  vast  field  of 
difference  is  dropped  out  of  sight.  The  progress 
of  the  child  in  power  of  thought  is  indicated  by 
his  ability  to  analyze  by  separating  the  sameness, 
identity,  or  resemblance  from  the  differences 
which  manifest  themselves.  When  the  child  notes 
a  resemblance  and  classifies  an  object,  and  at  the 


X  THE  STUDY  OF   THE   CHILD. 

same  time  notes  differences,  he  has  arrived  at  the 
stage  in  which  he  thinks  a  definition.  The  defi- 
nition first  states  the  object's  identity  or  resem- 
blance to  something  else,  and  secondly  points  out 
the  difference.  This  is  a  bird,-  it  is  yellow.  The 
result  is  the  concept  yellow  bird;  general  class, 
bird;  difference  or  limitation  of  the  class  bird  to 
birds  of  a  yellow  color.  This  bird  is  an  eagle, 
this  bird  is  bald-headed:  result,  definition  of  the 
subclass,  bald-headed  eagle. 

Now,  it  is  important  in  entering  upon  child 
study  to  note  carefully  the  difference  between 
thinking  with  an  image  and  thinking-with-a-defi- 
nition.  The  mind  of  the  person  mature  in 
thought  as  well  as  the  mind  of  the  first  beginner 
forms  images  when  he  thinks  general  notions  or 
concepts,  but  the  mature  thinker  will  notice  that 
when  he  thinks  an  image  he  immediately  notes  its 
limitations  and  its  inadequateness  to  correspond  to 
the  general  definition  which  constitutes  the  essen- 
tial part  of  the  general  notion.  When  the  word 
"  horse  "  is  mentioned  I  think  at  first  of  a  gray 
horse,  then  I  notice  that  I  am  imaging  a  special 
kind  of  horse  and  I  imagine  a  sorrel-colored  horse, 
and  then  a  larger  horse;  one  in  the  attitude  of 
standing  still,  another  in  the  attitude  of  running 
fast.  A  series  of  images  are  formed  and  dismissed 
as  quickly  as  formed.  In  this  the  mind  acts  with- 
out reflecting  upon  its  action.  It  makes  images 
and  at  the  same  time  notes  that  these  images  are 
mere  examples  or  illustrations  of  the  general  con- 
cept, and  that  they  do  not  exhaust  it. 

The  child  at  first  forms  vague  and  general  no- 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  xi 

tions.  He  does  not  seize  particular  objects  witli 
all  their  distinguishing  characteristics.  He  makes 
out  only  a  very  few  general  marks  or  attributes. 
He  classes  together  objects  which  a  more  experi- 
enced power  of  thought  distinguishes. 

Just  as  the  child  loses  his  interest  in  play  when 
he  comes  to  recognize  numerous  steps  in  the  caus- 
ation process,  so  the  child  gives  up  his  symbolic 
thinking,  and  with  it  his  exclusive  reliance  on 
mental  pictures,  when  he  comes  to  notice  not  only 
identities  but  differences.  His  first  definitions  are 
those  founded  on  external  appearance.  But  with 
the  growth  of  his  mind  and  the  observation  of  the 
process  of  causation  he  comes  to  note  the  function 
of  the  object  and  its  actions,  and  he  makes  his 
definitions  describe  acts  of  causation.  With  his 
progress  in  observing  causation  the  child  attains 
independence  of  thinking  and  confidence  in  him- 
self. 

Imitation  partakes  of  the  nature  of  symboliz- 
ing, and  it  forms  a  very  large  element  in  play. 
It  marks  the  first  beginnings  of  education.  The 
child  who  begins  to  imitate  gives  evidence  of  self- 
consciousness.  He  notices  the  activity  of  another 
fellow-being  and  recognizes  that  activity  as  pro- 
ceeding from  an  energy  or  will  power  akin  to  the 
power  which  he  himself  possesses.  He  proves  to 
himself  the  possession  of  that  power  by  imitating 
the  action  in  which  he  is  interested.  It  is  evident 
that  imitation,  therefore,  is  a  kind  of  spiritual 
assimilation,  a  digesting  and  making  one's  own  of 
the  act  of  another.  Of  course,  the  purpose  is  not 
conscious,  but  it  is  really  present  all  the  same. 


xii  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD, 

Whenever  children  show  a  passionate  interest 
in  discovering  properties  and  qualities  in  things 
it  is  high  time  for  them  to  leave  the  kindergarten 
and  take  up  the  work  of  learning  conventional 
signs,  reading,  writing,  arithmetic,  the  technical 
terms  of  geography,  etc. 

So,  too,  whenever  the  child  loves  to  trace  chains 
of  causation  by  noticing  the  effect  of  other  objects 
upon  the  thing  which  he  is  studying,  and  when  he 
loves  to  trace  out  the  effects  of  the  function  of 
his  object  upon  its  environment,  we  note  the  same 
ripeness  and  maturity  of  the  child  which  enables 
him  to  take  up  work  beyond  the  scope  of  the  kin- 
dergarten. Such  a  child  can  not  find  symbolic 
plays  and  games  perfectly  congenial  to  him.  He 
has  obtained  a  higher  stage  of  individual  culture 
and  seeks  gratification  which  comes  from  testing 
his  power  of  analysis  on  the  external  world.  He 
has  come  to  a  stage  of  thinking  above  the  sym- 
bolic. 

The  child  outgrows  his  feeble  state  of  mind, 
wherein  he  takes  the  dead  result  for  the  true  real- 
ity, and  gradually  acquires  the  ability  to  think 
the  forces  and  powers,  the  causal  energies,  which 
bring  things  into  existence  and  transform  those 
things  into  other  things. 

Imitation  has  the  same  course  of  development 
as  the  symbolic  thought  which  passes  over  into 
thinking-by-definitions.  At  first  imitation  copies 
the  merest  external  appearances.  But  it  gradually 
gets  possession  of  the  motives  and  purposes  of  the 
action;  finally,  the  imitator  may  arrive  at  the 
fundamental  principle  which  originates  the  action. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  xiii 

Then  the  imitator  finds  no  longer  his  guide  and 
rule  in  an  external  model.  He  finds  the  rule  for 
his  action  in  his  own  mind  and  becomes  original. 

The  child  imitates  an  external  object.  It  may 
be  another  person  or  it  may  be  an  animal  or  a 
thing.  His  imitation  is,  as  I  have  said,  an  act  of 
assimilation,  an  act  of  making  for  himself  that 
which  he  sees  made  by  another,  and  thereby  prov- 
ing his  own  causative  power.  By  this  action  of 
imitation  he  therefore  grows  toward  the  feeling 
of  responsibility.  The  act  as  performed  by  an- 
other is  none  of  his.  The  act  as  imitated  by  him- 
self is  his  own  and  he  is  responsible  for  it.  Imi- 
tation is  therefore  an  act  of  the  will,  just  as  sym- 
bolism and  thinking-by-definitions  is  an  act  .of 
the  intellect.  But  the  first  beginnings  of  imita- 
tion deal  with  the  merest  externalities  of  the  ac- 
tion imitated.  It  is  the  "  dialectic  "  of  imitation 
to  leave  these  externals  and  strive  for  a  more  and 
more  internal  relation  toward  that  which  it  imi- 
tates. It  seizes  the  motives  and  purposes  of  the 
action  and  it  sees  the  logical  necessity  for  these 
purposes  and  motives.  It  connects  them  more 
and  more  with  its  own  fundamental  principle  of 
action.  At  last,  when  it  performs  the  imitated 
act  as  an  expression  of  its  own  purposes  and  con- 
victions, imitation  has  become  originality. 

The  child  should  not  be  hastened  unduly  in 
his  progress  out  of  symbolism.  As  long  as  he  has 
interest  and  a  real  delight  in  the  symbol  he  should 
be  indulged  in  its  employment.  So,  too,  with 
regard  to  imitation.  The  judicious  teacher  will 
not  seek  to  deepen  the  child's  insight  into  motives 
3 


xiv  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

and  purposes  and  arouse  a  too  early  feeling  of  re- 
sponsibility in  his  mind.  In  most  cases  the  pres- 
sure of  the  society  in  which  the  child  lives — a  so- 
ciety mostly  of  grown  persons  possessed  of  a  deep 
feeling  of  responsibility — will  hasten  the  child's 
development  into  a  view  of  moral  purpose  quite 
soon  enough. 

W.  T.  Harris.  - 

Washington,  D.  C,  3Iay  12,  189S. 


EXPLANATOKY. 


For  twenty  years  the  subject  of  Child  Study 
has  been  growing  into  prominence  in  all  parts  of 
this  country,  and  many  interesting  and  valuable 
papers  and  reports  on  various  phases  of  the  sub- 
ject have  been  published  from  time  to  time  in  lead- 
ing educational  journals.  Child  study  societies 
have  been  formed  in  scores  of  cities,  and  several 
State  societies  are  doing  a  great  work  in  conduct- 
ing inquiries  on  an  extensive  scale.  Several  nor- 
mal schools  and  colleges  have  been  enlisted,  and 
progressive  teachers  in  all  classes  of  schools,  to- 
gether with  thousands  of  mothers,  have  assisted 
the  investigators  by  noting  and  reporting  a  multi- 
tude of  facts  about  the  life  of  the  child  as^it  comes 
into  the  world  and  grows  into  youth  and  manhood. 
These  observations  cover  the  development  of  the 
senses,  the  growth  of  perception  and  of  the  other 
mental  activities,  the  awakening  of  the  moral 
sense ;  the  emotions,  the  occupations,  the  language, 
the  ambitions  of  children;  the  ideas  which  chil- 
dren have  of  their  rights,  of  their  duties  to  each 
other,  of  punishment,  of  natural  phenomena,  of 
God;  the  influence  of  environment,  tosrether  with 


xvi  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

many  other  subjects  entering  into  the  physical  and 
mental  history  of  the  child. 

So  startling  have  been  the  results  of  these  in- 
vestigations that  they  are  already  forcing  a  re- 
statement of  several  pedagogical  principles  and  a 
general  readjustment  of  school  work  and  methods, 
particularly  in  the  primary  and  intermediate 
grades.  They  are  also  greatly  modifying  the  train- 
ing of  the  children  in  many  homes  and  are  quick- 
ening the  teachers  to  increased  activity  and  to  an 
interest  in  the  child,  which  promises  great  things 
in  the  near  future. 

The  principal  aim  of  this  book  has  been  to 
bring  the  subject  within  the  comprehension  of  the 
average  teacher  and  parent.  Technical  terms  and 
scientific  formula  have  been  avoided  as  much  as 
possible.  The  desire  to  announce  new  principles 
has  been  wholly  subservient  to  that  of  wishing  to 
serve  my  fellow-workers  by  assisting  them  to  a 
closer  relationship  with  the  child.  One  has  well 
said,  "  It  is  strange  that  the  child  should  "be  the 
last  of  all  God's  creatures  to  be  studied  scientifical- 
ly." It  is  still  more  strange,  however,  that  we  have 
been  content  to  teach  children  so  long  without 
knowing  more  about  them  as  individuals.  In  ex- 
plaining the  work  of  a  certain  church,  a  lady  said, 
"  It's  folks  we're  after,  not  things,"  and-  it  is  high 
time  that  we  get  after  the  child  as  much  as  after 
the  things  we  teach  him. 

ISTo  time  has  been  spent  on  anatomical  descrip- 
tions; they  can  easily  be  found  in  current  text- 
books on  physiology.  Teachers  and  parents  gener- 
ally think  it  extremely  difficult  to  pursue  the  study 


EXPLANATORY.  xvii 

of  the  child  without  at  least  a  fair  understanding 
of  the  elements  of  psychology.  They  often  forget 
that  the  study  will  give  them  that  very  knowledge 
and  that,  properly  pursued,  it  is  the  best  possible 
introduction  1;o  psychology  in  general.  So  many 
of  the  outlines  and  syllabi  submitted  for  their  guid- 
ance presuppose  such  knowledge  that  few  under- 
take to  follow  them.  Every  chapter  in  this  book 
is  an  attempt  to  organize  the  knowledge  already 
possessed  by  those  who  know  little  or  nothing  of 
scientific  psychology,  and  to  assist  them  to  in- 
quiries which  will  give  a  clearer  apprehension  of 
the  nature  and  possibilities  of  the  child. 

Much  child  study,  so  called,  has  been  done  in 
such  an  aimless,  fragmentary  way  that  its  results 
have  been  discouraging  to  some  of  its  best  friends. 
If  these  pages  assist  in  dignifying  and  systematiz- 
ing the  study,  the  author  will  be  amply  repaid. 

Little  claim  is  made  to  originality  in  the  fol- 
lowing chapters.  Many  of  the  books  and  period- 
icals named  in  the  bibliography  have  served  me  in 
greater  or  less  degree,  and  I  cheerfully  acknowledge 
my  obligations  to  the  authors  for  whatever  of  merit 
may  appear.  A  reasonable  proportion  of  whatever 
there  may  be  of  the  opposite  character  the  kind 
reader  will  also  charge  to  them. 

I  wish  also  to  acknowledge  my  obligations  to 
several  members  of  the  faculty  of  the  State  for- 
mal School  for  helpful  suggestions. 

A.  R.  Taylor. 

State  Normal  School,  Emporia,  Kansas, 
June  1,  1898. 


Hilda  and  Josephine  grew  into  icomanhood  as 
fast  friends.  Hilda  married  a  poor  but  honest 
carpenter,  and  Josephine  married  a  man  of  large 
estates  who  builded  her  a  princely  house.  He  took 
her  to  Europe  and  they  visited  all  the  great  cities 
that  she  might  purchase  rare  treasures  for  its 
furnishings.  When  all  was  put  in  place  at  home, 
Josephine  sent  for  Hilda  arid  showed  her  through 
every  room.  But  as  often  as  she  finished  explain- 
ing the  figures  on  the  carpets,  the  gracefid  folds 
of  the  draperies,  the  rich  carvings  of  the  furni- 
ture, the  meanings  of  the  pictures  and  the  statu- 
ary that  the  masters  had  painted  and  chiseled, 
Hilda  ivould  say  ivith  a  smile,  ''It  is  indeed  beau- 
tiful, but  there  is  something  more  beautiful  than 
that.'''  In  disappointment,  Josephine  ashed, 
''Hilda,  what  could  be  more  beautiful  f''  Hilda 
slipped  her  arm  into  Josephine's,  as  of  old,  and 
said,  "Come  ivith  me.''''  They  soon  reached  Hilda^s 
humble  home,  ivith  its  plain  but  scrupidously 
clean  white  ivalls  and  doors.  Little  finger  marks 
ivere  seen  on  the  door  frame  as  they  entered  and  a 
glad  laugh  greeted  them  from  a  ruddy-faced  babe 
in  the  cradle.  Hilda  turned  and  said,  "Josephine, 
there  is  nothing  in  all  your  grand  home  so  beau- 
tiful as  those  finger  marks  on  the  door  and  the 
merry  prattle  of  my  siveet  babe  I "  Tears  started 
to  Josephine''s  eyes  as  she  folded  her  friend  to  her 
breast  and  said,  "Hilda,  you  are  right.'" — After 
Eugene  Field. 


CONTENTS. 


I. — The  senses. — Organic  ]. 
II. — The  senses  (continued). — Temperature 
III. — The  senses  (continued). — Taste  . 
IV. — The  senses  (continued). — Smell  . 
V. — The  senses  (continued). — Touch  . 
VI.^ — The  senses  (continued). — Hearing 
VII. — The  senses  (continued).— Sight   . 
VIII. — The  senses  (continued).  —  General  func 

TIONS  

IX. — Consciousness  and  apperception  . 
X. — Apperception  (continued). — Attention 

XI. — Symbolism 

XII. — Language 


XIII. — Muscular  or  motor  control 


54 
60 
69 
76 
84 
93 
106 
115 


XIV.— The  feelings 

XV. — The  will  and  its  functions 
XVI. — The    intellect   and   its   functions. — Per- 
ception, memory,  and  imagination  .       .    124 
XVII. — The  intellect  and  its  functions  (contin- 
ued).— Conception,  judgment,  reasoning    137 

xxi 


xxu 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 


CHAPTER 

XVIII. — The  self,  habit,  and  character 
XIX. — Children's  instincts  and  plays 
XX. — Manners  and  morals    . 
—  XXI. — Normals  and  abnormals 
-     XXII. — Stages  of  growth,  fatigue  poin 
XXIII. — Conclusions    .... 
Bibliography  .... 


t,  etc. 


PAGK 
151 

159 
1G8 
179 
195 
208 
311 


ANALYSIS   OF   CONTENTS. 


Preface  by  the  editor,  pages  v  to  xiv. 

I.  Symbolic  vs.  conventional. 

i.  How  the  child  outgrows  the  symbolic. 

3.  Concepts  not  mental  pictures  but  definitions. 

4.  Imitation  and  how  it  grows  into  originality. 

Pages  xxxvii  to  xliii. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

5.  The  infinite  possibilities  of  the  child. 

6.  Various  definitions  of  education. 

7.  Subjects  of  instruction  as  a  means. 

8.  The  study  of  the  child   is  the  study  of  the 

man. 

9.  How  and  where  children  are  to  be  studied. 

10.  The  relation  of  this  knowledge  to  education. 

11.  Suggestions  and  cautions. 

12.  The  place  to  begin. 

Chapter  I,  pages  i  to  6. 

THE    ORGANIC    SENSES. 

13.  How  the  child  wakes  to  conscious  life. 

14.  The  significance  of  a  sense-defect. 


xxiv  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

15.  The  need  for  intelligent  management. 

16.  The  organic  senses  proper. 

17.  Their  relation  to  the  child's  temperament. 

18.  The  errors  of  ignorance. 

Chapter  II,  pages  7  to  11. 

THE    SENSE   OF   TEMPERATURE. 

19.  Warm,  cold,  and  neutral  spots. 

20.  Differences  in  the  temperature  of  children. 

21.  Skin  diseases  involved  in  this  sense. 

22.  Relation  of  temperature  to  work  and  order. 

23.  Tests  for  normal  temperature. 

24.  First   sense    to   give   knowledge   of   external 

world. 

25.  Practical  value  of  this  sense. 

Chapter  III,  pages  12  to  17. 

THE    SENSE   OF   TASTE. 

26.  The  origin  and  growth  of  taste. 

27.  Necessity  for  its  proper  cultivation. 

28.  The  function  of  taste  in  knowledge-getting. 

29.  Its  value  in  the  arts  and  sciences. 

Chapter  IV,  pages  18  to  2}. 

THE   SENSE   OF   SMELL. 

30.  Its  order  in  intellectual  value. 

31.  Relation   to   the    physical   well-being   of    the 

child. 

32.  Diseases  of  the  organ,   symptoms   and   sug- 

gestions. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONTENTS.  xxv 

;^^.  The  aesthetic  value  of  smell. 

34.  Its  value  in  the  arts  and  sciences. 

Chapter  V,  pages  24  to  30. 

THE    SENSE   OF    TOUCH. 

35.  Its  nature. 

;^6.  Its  function  in  giving  knowledge  of  the  ex- 
ternal world. 

37.  Its  various  functions  in  the  physical  economy. 

38.  Distinction  between  passive  and  active  touch. 

39.  The  office  of  symbolism  in  touch. 

40.  The  extent  of  its  cultivation — Helen  Kellar. 

Chapter  VI,  pages  31  to  40. 

THE    SENSE    OF    HEARING. 

41.  How  it  differs  from  the  senses  already  named. 

42.  Stage  of  development  at  birth. 

43.  Necessity  for  its  careful  protection. 

44.  Its  great  intellectual  value  in  giving  knowl- 

edge [a)  through  pitch,  (/')  through  in- 
tensity, (c)  through  quality  or  timbre,  (d) 
of  direction,  (e)  of  distance. 

45.  Its  aesthetic  value. 

46.  Its  practical  value. 

47.  Relation  to  language. 

Chapter  VII,  pages  41  to  53. 

THE   SENSE   OF   SIGHT. 

48.  The  king  of  the  senses. 

49.  How  the  newborn  child  sees. 


xxvi  THE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

50.  Its  intellectual  value. 

51.  The  knowledge   given   by  the   purely   visual 

function  of  the  eye. 

52.  The  union  of  the  visual  and  muscular  sensa- 

tions. 

53.  Dependence  of  sight  upon  touch — symbolism. 

54.  The  aesthetic  value  of  sight. 

55.  The  care  of  the  eye — diseases  and  tests. 

Chapter  VIII,  pages  54  to  59. 

GENERAL    FUNCTIONS   OF    THE    SENSES. 

56.  The  means  of  communicating  with  the  exter- 

nal world. 

57.  The  action  of  the  sensory  nerves. 

58.  The  dependence  of  the  mind  upon  the  deli- 

.cacy  of  the  senses. 

59.  The  sensation  continuum. 

60.  Relative  prominence  of  sensations  in  the  life 

of  the  child  and  adult. 

61.  How  the  senses  are  cultivated. 

Chapter  IX,  pages  60  to  68. 

CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   APPERCEPTION. 

62.  The  bridge  from  the  physical  to  the  mental. 

63.  How  sensations  come  into  consciousness. 

64.  The  rise  of  the  idea  of  identity  and  difference. 

65.  The  process  of  apperception. 

66.  How  knowledge  and  experience  organize  a 

child. 

67.  The  law  of  apperception. 

68.  The  law  of  association. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONTENTS.  -  xxvii 

Chapter  X,  pages  69  to  75. 

ArrERCEPTION    (continued) — ATTENTION, 

69.  The  function  of  interest. 

70.  Value,  the  law  of. 

71.  The  law  of  interest. 

72.  The  law  of  disengagement  or  dissociation. 

73.  Attention  and  concentration. 

74.  Accuracy,    rapidity,    and    comprehension    in 

attention. 

75.  Apperception — when  complete. 

76.  Definition  of  relation. 

Chapter  XI,  pages  76  to  83. , 

SYMBOLISM. 

77.  An  object  the  expression  of  an  idea. 

78.  Words  as  symbols. 

79.  The  symbolizing  power  of  sensations. 

80.  Symbolism    in    mythology,   religion,   philoso- 

phy. 

81.  The  story  of  the  symbols. 

82.  The  meaning  of  symbols  is  universal. 

83.  Gradations  in  symbols. 

Chapter  XII,  pages  84  to  q2. 

LANGUAGE. 

84.  Symbolism  makes  language  possible. 

85.  Children  invent  language. 

86.  How  children  learn  the  meaning  of  words— 

I,  2,  3,  4,  5. 


xxviii        THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

87.  The  differences  in  the  language  of  children 

— their  cause. 

88.  Learning  words  by  imitation. 

89.  Function  of  words  in  memory. 

90.  Suggestions  for  inquiries. 

91.  Transition  periods  in  the  use  of  words. 

92.  Transition  from  the  oral  to  the  written  word. 

Chapter  XIII,  pages  93  to  105. 

MUSCULAR    OR    MOTOR    CONTROL. 

93.  Relation  of  sensory  and  motor  nerves. 

94.  Movement  originates  in  reflex  actions. 

95.  The  motive  power  in  physical  impulse;  defi- 

nition of  impulse. 

96.  The    child's    organism    set    up    with    "  com- 

pressed springs." 

97.  Mental  origin  of  certain  impulses. 

98.  How  control  develops. 

99.  Differences  in  physical  control  in  children. 
100.  Relation  to  education. 

loi.  Motor  control  in  gesture,  speech,  drawing, 
writing,  vision,  facial  expression,  and  man- 
ual dexterity  in  general. 

102.  Causes  of  inability  to  control  the  movements 

of  any  organ. 

103.  Kinds  of    movements    best   adapted   to   the 

younger  children. 

104.  Relation  of  thought  and  action. 

105.  Relation  of  nerve  centers  to  muscular  con- 

trol.    Dr.  Emerson's  views. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONTENTS.  xxix 

Chapter  XIV,  pages  io6  to  114. 

THE    FEELINGS. 

106.  The  nature  of  feelings  in  general. 

107.  Sensations  as  feelings. 

108.  Emotions  ;  origin  and  relation  to  mental  ac^ 

tivity. 

109.  The  mingling  of  sensations  and  emotions, 
no.  Relation  of  emotional  nature  and  physical 

organism. 

111.  Classification  of  emotions. 

112.  Affections — loves  and  likes. 

113.  Origin  and  growth  of  the  affections  in  chil- 

dren. 

114.  Desires  and  their  relation  to  impulse. 

Chapter  XV,  pages  115  to  123. 

THE   WILL   AND    ITS    FUNCTIONS. 

115.  The  elements  of  the  will  in  voluntary  bodily 

activity. 

116.  Definition  and  origin  of  wnll  activity. 

117.  Desires  in  relation  to  the  will. 

118.  Choice,  motive,  and  volition. 

119.  The  idealizing  and  realizing  functions  of  the 

will. 

120.  Intellectual  control. 

121.  Control  economizes  time  and  energy. 

122.  Practical  and  prudential  control. 

123.  Suggested  lines  of  investigation. 

124.  The  educational  process  as  affected  by  the 

will, 
3 


XXX  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

125.  The    reactive    effect    of    the    various    kinds 

of    control    upon    the    character   of    the 
child. 

126.  These  forces  lead  to  moral  control. 


Chapter  XVI,  pages  124  to  136. 

THE  INTELLECT   AND   ITS   FUNCTIONS — PERCEPTION,    MEMORY, 
AND    IMAGINATION. 

127.  Consciousness,  apperception,  and   attention 

have  already  been  explained. 

128.  Definition  of  perception — its  relation  to  ap- 

perception. 

129.  The  laws  of  association  apply  to  perception 

as  well  as  to  apperception. 

130.  Experimenting  in  perception. 

131.  Memory  and  its  functions  :  (a)  As  related  to 

perception  and  apperception ;  [d)  as  re- 
lated to  the  reasoning  process;  (r)  as  re- 
lated to  prudential  control ;  (d)  as  related 
to  our  happiness;  (e)  as  related  to  lan- 
guage. 

132.  Recollection  is  memory  under    the  control 

and  direction  of  the  will. 

133.  Suggested   inquiries  on  memory  and  recol- 

lection. 

134.  Conditions  of  memory. 

135.  Imagination — nature  and  functions. 

136.  Kinds  of  imagination  :    [a)   Mechanical,   (^) 

fancy,  (c)  creative. 

137.  Testing  the  imagination  of  children. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CONTENTS.  xxxi 

138.  Relation  of  the  three  image-building  activities 

— perception,  memory,  and  imagination. 

139.  Active  and  passive  phases  of  imagination. 

140.  The  cultivation  of  the  imagination. 

Chapter  XVII,  pages  137  to  150. 

THE    INTELLECT   AND    ITS    FUNCTIONS   (CONTINCED) CONCEP- 
TION,   JUDGMENT,    AND    REASONING. 

141.  The  twofold    significance  of  the  term  con- 

ception. 

142.  Process  of  the  development  of  a  conception. 

143.  Definition  and  illustration  of  conception. 

144.  Analysis  of  the  process:  (i)  Attention  and 

isolation ;    (2)    comparison  ;    (3)   abstrac- 
tion ;  (4)  synthesis. 

145.  Suggested  experiments  with  the  child. 

146.  Definition  and  function  of  judgment. 

147.  Elements  in  a  judgment. 

148.  Accuracy  depends  upon — i,  2,  3. 

149.  The  way  the  child  judges. 

150.  Judgment  as  implicit  reasoning. 

151.  Definition  of  the  reasoning  process. 

152.  The  syllogism  and  its  elements. 

153.  The  deductive  process  explained. 

154.  The  inductive  process  and  its  functions. 

155.  The  nature  of  proof;  depends  upon  obser- 

vation, experimentation,  and  reasoning. 

156.  The  physical  side  to  reasoning  and  the  other 

mental  activities. 

157.  The  origin  and  development  of  the  reason- 

ing faculty  in  the  child. 


xxxii  THE  STUDY  OF  TEE  CHILD. 

Chapter  XVllI,  pages  151  to  158. 

THE    SELF,    HABIT,    AND    CHARACTER. 

158.  The  definition  of  self. 

159.  How  the  child  makes  himself. 

160.  Definition  and  functions  of  habit. 

161.  Education  and  habit. 

162.  Habit  and  character. 

163.  Origin  and  kinds  of  habit. 

164.  Suggested  inquiries  on  children's  habits. 

165.  Effect  of  plays. 

Chapter  XIX,  pages  159  to  167, 

children's  instincts  and  plays. 

166.  Instincts  and  impulses. 

167.  The  order  in  which  instincts  develop. 

168.  The  various  products  of  instincts  and  im- 

pulses. 

169.  The  social  instinct,  the  impulse  to  fellow- 

ship. 

170.  How  it  develops  in  the  child. 

171.  The  plays  of  children,  their  nature  and  im- 

portance. 

172.  The  most  popular   plays;   the  range  needs 

revision. 

173.  Children  should  be  taught  how  to  play. 

174.  Play  as  related   to  the  child's  future  occu- 

pations. 

175.  Effects  of  play  upon  the  child's  social  life. 


ANALYSIS  OP  CONTENTS.  xxxiii 

Chapter  XX,  pages  168  to  178. 

MANNERS    AND    MORALS. 

176.  The  relation  of  the  social   to  the  moral  in- 

stinct. 

177.  Some  code  of  manners  common  to  all  people. 

178.  Politeness  should  not  be  confused  with  good 

manners. 

179.  The  development  of  good  manners  in  chil- 

dren largely  dependent  upon  good  man- 
ners in  the  home. 

180.  The  virtues   that   lie   at   the   basis  of  good 

manners. 

181.  Suggested  inquiries  concerning  the  manners 

of  children. 

182.  Origin  of  the  moral  instinct. 

183.  Relation  of  moral  to  prudential  control. 

184.  The   child's   first   impulses  are  to  be  true; 

illustrations. 

185.  When  moral  character  appears. 

186.  Tests  for  the  children. 

187.  The  three  elements  in  moral  culture — right 

knowing,  right  loving,  and  right  doing. 

188.  Conscience  defined   and    analyzed — i,   2,   3, 

4.  5- 

189.  The   development   of    right    motives    is  the 

most  delicate  problem  in  education. 

190.  Simple  rules  for  their  development — i,  2,  3, 

4,  5,  6. 


xxxiv         THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 
Chapter  XXI,  pages  179  to  194. 

NORMALS    AND    ABNORMALS. 

191.  Distinction  between  normals  and  abnormals. 

192.  Precocious  and  defective  children. 

193.  Inherited  diseases  and  deformities   may  be 

due  (a)  to  similar  diseases  or  deformities 
in  parents,  {^)  to  constitutional  weakness 
of  parents,  or  (c)  to  bad  habits  of  parents. 
Authorities  cited  in  support  of  statement. 

194.  Inherited  physical  deformity  usually  means 

mental  deformity.     Maudsley's  views. 

195.  The  gradations  from  the  strictly  normal,  to 

the  completely  unbalanced  mind.  Super- 
intendent Klock's  conclusions. 

196.  Relation  of  physical  and  mental  defectives 

to  moral  defectives. 

197.  Four  classes  of  moral  defectives. 

198.  Causes   of   moral   defection:    (a)  Heredity; 

(<^)  environment ;  (c)  education  and  train- 
ing. 

199.  Illustrations  of  the  injustice  of  teachers  and 

others  in  the  treatment  of  offenders. 

200.  Belated  development  in  children — causes  and 

remedies. 

201.  Suggested  investigations.    Time  to  be  given 

to  abnormals. 


ANALYSIS   OF  CONTENTS.  xxxv 

Chapter  XXII,  pages  193  to  207. 

STAGES    OF    GROWTH,    FaTIGUE   POINT,    ETC. 

202.  Infancy,   childhood,   and   youth  ;   character- 

istics of  each.  Changes  in  transition  from 
one  to  another. 

203.  Ideals  and    motives  changing;  methods  of 

management  must  change  also. 

204.  Stage  of  development  should  determine  the 

kind  of  punishment  to  be  administered. 

205.  The  fatigue  point  in  children — illustrations; 

causes  and  remedies;  school  programs. 

206.  The  aesthetic  instinct — its  origin,  growth,  and 

function ;  relation  to  the  true  and  the  good. 

207.  The  unconscious  or  subconscious  influences 

that  affect  the  child.  Waldstein's  views 
of  the  relation  of  the  conscious  and  un- 
conscious influences.  Illustrations  of  the 
effect  of  the  latter  upon  language,  upon 
character. 

208.  The  general   function  of  sympathy ;  origin 

of  sympathy.    The  test  of  the  true  teacher. 

Chapter  XXIII,  pages  208  to  210. 

CONCLUSIONS. 

209.  Topics  suggested  for  additional  study. 

210.  Teachers'  clubs;  mothers'  clubs. 

211.  Bibliography. 


INTKODUCTOEY. 


If  asked  for  the  name  of  that  which  is  at  once 
most  like  and  most  unlike  God,  almost  any  one 
would  answer,  Tlie  lobe  in  the  cradle.  In  it  are 
all  the  attributes  of  God,  but  they  are  there  in 
potentia  only.  They  are  there  in  kind,  but  in  the 
least  quantity  that  can  possibly  exist.  God  has 
the  same  attributes,  but  in  quantity  limitless,  in 
knowledge  boundless,  in  majesty  supreme.  Be- 
tween these  two  extremes  are  men  in  all  stages  of 
development.  If  we  represent  the  progress  or  the 
growth  of  the  child  toward  God  by  a  triangle,  we 
shall  find  the  babe  at  the  apex,  h,  the  youth  slight- 
ly out  on  the  base  line  at  y,  and  the  growing  man 


at  different  stages,  m,  m',  m",  m'",  beyond,  in  vary- 
ing development  up  toward  God  standing  at  the 
other  end  of  the  base  and  filling  the  triangle  at  an 
infinite  distance  away.  How  near  the  apex"  some 
men  remain !  How  far  on  toward  God  some  men 
advance !     Who   knows   just   where   stand   Moses 


xxxviii       THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

and  Plato  and  Paul  and  Bacon  and  Milton  and 
Kepler  and  Newton  and  Knox  and  Mozart  and 
Wesley,  and  all  that  mighty  host  of  men  who 
walked  amid  the  stars  and  dared  to  think  God's 
thoughts  after  him?  On,  on  to  the  right,  away 
beyond  the  ken  of  ordinary  mortals,  they  are  still 
advancing  in  wisdom  and  power  that  one  day,  it 
is  said  reverently,  shall  make  them  approach  even 
to  God  himself. 

Here  lies  in  my  hand  a  young  bird;  all  it  can 
be,  all  it  can  do,  may  now  be  written  at  once  by 
any  one.  Who  dare  say  what  that  babe  lying  in 
yonder  cradle  shall  be  and  do?  Who  is  able  to 
place  a  limit  upon  the  result  of  its  efforts  at  reach- 
ing up  toward  the  Infinite? 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  state  the 
object  of  education.  Plato  would  have  it  to  be  the 
perfection  of  all  the  powers  of  man.  Dante  de- 
clared it  to  be  to  fit  man  for  eternity.  Milton 
thought  it  to  be  to  regain  what  man  lost  in 
Adam's  fall.,  Spencer  says  that  it  is  to  prepare 
man  for  complete  living.  Rosenkranz  makes  the 
object  to  be  to  develop  the  theoretical  t.nd  practical 
reason  in  man,  to  give  him  freedom.  Few,  how- 
ever, seem  to  emphasize  fully  the  idea  that  its  end 
is  to  advance  the  youth  in  his  efforts  to  become 
like  the  Infinite.  In  his  image  is  he  created,  and 
every  activity  exerted  should  be  a  striving  to  real- 
ize the  possibilities  thus  assured. 

Much  has  been  written  upon  the  sacredness  of 
the  child  and  the  great  responsibility  resting  upon 
parent  and  teacher;  but  however  keenly  any  one 
may  have  felt  it  all,  there  come  a  weightier  sig- 


INTRODUCTORY.  xxxix 

nificance  and  a  deeper  meaning  as  this  liiglier  end 
of  education  becomes  more  clear.  He  no  longer 
teaches  geography  and  arithmetic  as  an  end  but  as 
a  means.  He  no  longer  finds  satisfaction  in  dis- 
covering that  his  children  know  all  al)out  trade 
winds  and  simooms,  about  Aristides  and  George 
Washington,  about  the  Faerie  Queene  and  Evange- 
line, but  rather  in  discovering  that  their  minds 
are  growing  in  power  to  think  and  that  they  are 
enlarging  in  grasp  and  vision  with  each  day's 
efforts. 

In  studying  the  child,  we  are  in  reality  study- 
ing the  man.  In  studying  it,  we  are  enabled  to 
see  the  steps  by  which  the  material  becomes  spir- 
itual, blind  physical  impulse  becomes  unerring 
skill,  the  finite  becomes  the  infinite.  The  proper 
study  of  mankind  is  man,  but  he  who  knows  not 
the  child  will  never  know  the  man. 

All  other  sciences  center  around  the  science  of 
the  child,  for  there  is  no  other  which  does  not 
contribute  in  some  way  to  our  understanding  of 
him.  Those  upon  which  we  must  depend  most 
directly  are,  of  course,  anatomy,  physiology,  and 
hygiene,  with  all  their  various  subdivisions;  ethics, 
logic,  and  psychology,  including  their  genetic  and 
practical  phases.  It  Avas  out  of  the  study  of  man 
that  these  sciences  came,  and  on  that  account  they 
are  valuable  as  guides  to  the  study  of  the  child. 

No  one  can  profitably  engage  in  child  study 
without  children  to  study — not  one  child  only,  but 
many  children.  Some  valuable  contributions  to 
the  subject  have  been  made  by  those  who  have 
devoted  their  time  to  the  study  of  one  child,  but 


xl  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

only  as  the  results  of  a  large  number  of  such  in- 
vestigations are  collated  can  any  reliable  infer- 
ences be  drawn.  Reading  about  children  is  not 
studying  children,  and  little  good  will  come  of  it. 
They  must  be  studied  in  their  homes,  in  their 
plays,  in  the  schoolroom,  at  their  work,  at  their 
books,  asleep,  awake,  alone,  with  their  inferiors 
and  their  superiors,  in  moments  of  despondency 
and  in  moments  of  triumph,  wherever  they  may 
reveal  themselves  to  us  and  wherever  we'  may  be 
able  to  gain  admittance  to  their  real  selves.  Some 
children  will  be  found  apt,  wide-awake,  aggressive; 
others  slow,  sluggish,  passive.  Some  have  perfect 
physical  organisms,  others  defective  eyesight  or 
hearing,  or  possibly  a  growing  deformity  in  limb 
or  body.  Some  imitate  instantly,  others  have  lit- 
tle motor  control.  Some  are  as  lovable  as  angels; 
others  vicious  to  an  extreme.  Some  will  be  found 
simple  and  natural;  others  artificial  and  affected; 
some  tractable,  others  unmanageable. 

But  these  discoveries  are  worth  nothing,  if  the 
study  of  the  children  ends  here.  A  physician  is 
of  no  value  if  he  stops  w^hen  he  has  taken  the 
diagnosis  of  a  case.  He  must  now  proceed  with 
the  application  of  a  remedy,  a  process  that  requires 
even  greater  skill.  So  the  student  of  the  child 
must  immediately  set  about  to  discover  the  most 
economic  means  and  methods  of  correcting  the 
defects  in  the  child  and  of  stimulating  its  nor- 
mal activities.  All  these  investigations  should  re- 
sult in  giving  us  an  idea  of  what  constitutes  a 
normal  child  and  in  helping  to  understand  the 
laws  of  his  development.     Many  people  are  as  ex- 


>>* 


INTRODUCTORY.  xli 

acting  in  their  demands  of  the  child  as  they  are  of 
a  full-groAvn  man  or  woman,  forgetting  absolutely 
the  great  difference  between  the  two — physically, 
mentally,  and  morally.  It  is  of  vital  importance 
that  we  know  what  we  may  expect  of  the  child. 
ISTearly  as  many  children  are  ruined  by  the  un- 
reasonable demands  made  upon  them  as  by  the 
neglect  sadly  too  common.  How  quickly  and  gen- 
erously do  the  flowers  respond  to  the  tender,  in- 
telligent touch  of  the  housewife— and  yet  even 
more  generously  does  the  child  respond  to  the 
solicitations  of  one  who  knows  its  impulses  and 
sympathizes  with  its  every  need. 

Much  of  value  will  be  found  in  recalling  one^s 
childhood  and  the  experiences  and  impressions  of 
those  days  when  the  heart  was  young  and  the 
mind  was  thrilling  at  its  first  acquaintance  with 
things  that  long  since  have  been  regarded  as 
commonplace  and  insignificant.  This  process 
helps  us  to  put  ourselves  in  the  place  of  the  child, 
and  to  think  and  feel  as  he  thinks  and  feels. 
Memory  may  not  be  very  clear  on  many  points, 
but  what  does  reappear  brings  us  much  nearer  to 
the  child  than  we  were  before. 

Caution  should  always  be  observed  and  hasty 
generalizations  avoided.  One  swallow  does  not 
make  a  summer,  neither  does  one  observation  es- 
tablish a  law.  The  slightest  change  in  conditions 
has  overthrown  many  a  finely  spun  theory.  We 
are  dealing  with  the  mind,  not  with  physical 
forces.  The  most  sensitive  instrument  ever  in- 
vented by  man  does  not  compare  with  it  in  deli- 
cacy.   The  impulses  that  direct  its  activities  come 


xlii  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

from  depths  that  no  plummet  has  yet  fathomed, 
and  progress  must  necessarily  be  slow. 

Do  not  forget  that  the  study  you  are  asked 
to  make  is  not  necessarily  for  the  purpose  of 
contributing  the  results  to  the  profession  in  gen- 
eral, but  rather  for  the  particular  benefit  of  your 
particular  children  and  of  yourself  as  their 
teacher.  Your  enlightenment  and  their  advance- 
ment are  more  important  than  anything  else. 
Let  love  and  interest  in  them  and  in  them  alone 
l^rompt  you  in  it  all. 

Child  study  generally  begins  with  the  babe's 
first  conscious  movements,  though  an  exhaustive 
treatment  of  the  subject  would  include  its  pre- 
natal life  as  well.  Those  of  our  readers  who  may 
care  to  know  more  of  the  various  views  of  the 
genesis  of  certain  physical  and  mental  activities 
would  do  well  to  consult  Perez's  First  Three  Years 
of  Childhood,  Preyer's  The  Senses  and  the  Will, 
and  Compayre's  Intellectual  and  Moral  Develop- 
ment of  the  Child. 

The  mystery  of  conscious  life,  both  in  its  ori- 
gin and  development,  confronts  us  at  the  very 
beginning  of  the  study.  No  other  phenomenon  in 
the  universe  approaches  it  in  sublimity,  no  other 
so  fascinates  us  by  its  delicate  subtleness.  The 
force  of  gravitation  that  holds  the  stars  in  their 
courses,  the  fervent  heat  that  melts  down  moun- 
tains and  tosses  them  into  the  sky,  the  bolt  of 
lightning  that  shivers  the  towering  monarchs  of 
the  forest,  powerful  though  they  be,  know  not 
themselves  nor  direct  a  single  one  of  their  myriad 
activities.     That  strange  and  wonderful  attribute, 


INTRODUCTORY.  xliii 

conscious  life,  is  reserved  for  the  child,  the  man. 
It  sits  ruler  and  king  over  every  activity  of  tlie 
soul  and  over  the  mighty  forces  that  hitherto  have 
recognized  no  master  save  their  Creator. 

As  the  senses  awaken  the  child  into  this  con- 
scious life,  they  are  treated  in  the  opening  chap- 
ters. 


THE   STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 


CHAPTEE   I. 

THE    SENSES. — ORGANIC. 

It  is  through  the  senses  that  the  child  wakes 
to  conscious  life,  through  them  that  he  becomes  ac- 
quainted with  the  outer  world,  which  he  is  to  know 
and  of  which  he  is  to  become  a  counterpart.  With- 
out them  the  child  lies  dormant  in  his  cradle, 
sleeping  away  his  days,  not  even  knowing  of  an 
outer  world,  nor  dreaming  of  his  own  mighty  pos- 
sibilities. With  his  senses  he  explores  the  universe 
round  about  him  and  eventually  becomes  its  mas- 
ter. Upon  their  sensitiveness  and  perfection  his 
progress  depends.  No  greater  joy  comes  to  a  new 
mother  than  the  assurance  that  the  child  has  a 
perfect  body  and  perfect  eyes  and  ears,  but  it  is 
seldom  that  she  recognizes  the  full  significance  of 
such  a  boon.  Those  eyes  and  ears  are  not  only 
to  enable  him  to  place  himself  in  space  and  com- 
municate with  his  fellows,  but  to  furnish  him  the 
materials,  the  food  upon  which  his  mind  is  to  feed 
and  grow.  They  are  not  only  to  give  him  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  sensuous  world  round  about  him,  but 
also  of  those  higher  relations  and  harmonies  that 
knit  soul  with  soul  and  with  the  Infinite. 
4  1 


2  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

It  is  important  that  mother  and  teacher  know 
at  once  the  tremendous  significance  of  any  phys- 
ical defect,  particularly  as  it  may  in  any  way  per- 
tain to  the  nervous  system  of  the  child.  What- 
ever disturbs  or  obstructs,  however  slightly,  the 
natural  and  spontaneous  movement  of  tli«  sensor 
or  motor  activities  may  have  a  vast  influence  in 
shaping  the  intellectual  life  and  the  moral  char- 
acter of  the  child.  Two  seemingly  parallel  straight 
lines  may  be  hut  an  inch  apart  at  their  origin  and 
yet  he  ten  feet  apart  at  the  end  of  a  mile.  Intel- 
lectual dullness  and  moral  obliquity  are  usually 
due  to  some  physical  deformity,  though  often  so 
insignificant  as  to  escape  notice. 

Some  time  since,  twenty  bad  boys  in  a  certain 
city  were  chosen  for  the  sense  test,  and  it  was  dis- 
covered that  every  one  of  them  was  defective  in 
vision  or  hearing,  or  both.  Twenty  good  children 
were  selected,  and  it  happened  that  all  were  perfect 
in  both  senses.  It  would  be  dangerous  to  general- 
ize from  this  that  all  physical  defectives  are  moral- 
ly defective,  or  that  all  perfect  nervous  systems 
are  morally  without  reproach,  but  that  the  tend- 
ency of  each  is  here  emphasized  there  can  be  no 
question.  A  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body  means 
more  than  that  the  body  should  be  healthy;  it 
means  that  every  part  of  the  physical  organ- 
ism should  be  continuously  and  efficiently  per- 
forming its  proper  function.  There  are  notable 
cases  of  individuals,  physically  defective  from 
birth,  attaining  to  great  mental  power  and  spir- 
itual excellence,  but  at  what  cost  few  people  can 
imagine. 


THE  SENSES.— ORGANIC.  3 

Though  derangement  may  not  clearl}-  manifest 
itself  in  the  young  child,  its  presence  may  often  be 
detected  by  an  expert  and  corrected  by  judicious 
treatment.  jNIany  an  eye  that  was  Aveak  at  birth 
has  been  put  out  by  ignorant  or  careless  nurses; 
many  an  ear  that  scarce  had  taken  form  has  been 
ruined  by  those  who  loved  the  child  best.  Many 
a  child  has  lost  one  sense  or  both  through  the 
neglect  of  ignorance  or  caprice.  On  the  other 
hand,  physicians  tell  us  that  one  half  of  the 
children  with  defective  hearing  can  easily  be 
cured,  if  taken  in  time;  the  same  is  true  of 
those  defective  in  eyesight.  Is  this,  then, 
a  light  theme  to  which  we  are  giving  atten- 
tion ? 

It  does  not  seem  wise  to  spend  much  time  in 
discussing  the  lower  senses,  for  they  give  us  little 
knowledge,  comparatively  speaking.  And  yet  they 
are  of  the  highest  importance.  All  those  sensa- 
tions which  may  be  embraced  under  the  one  term, 
organic,  such  as  the  feelings  arising  from  the  gen- 
eral state  of  the  body  or  of  the  vital  and  vegetative 
organs,  make  up  the  tone  of  the  body  as  a  whole 
and  give  it  that  peculiar  physical  character  which 
manifests  itself  in  what  is  known  as  the  tempera- 
ment of  the  individual.  The  general  disposition 
of  the  child  is  so  largely  determined  by  the  degree 
of  perfection  with  which  the  digestive,  assimilative, 
circulatory,  respiratory,  and  lymphatic  functions 
are  performed,  that  no  student  of  the  child  can 
afford  to  overlook  them.  The  old  notion  that  the 
bile  exercises  a  controlling  influence  over  the  dis- 
position of  the  individual  is  simply  expanded  in 


4  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

these  days  to  embrace  all  the  forces  named  above. 
That  a  child  whose  stomach  is  souring  and  efferves- 
cing half  the  day  should  be  amiable  and  attentive 
to  his  work,  can  not  be  expected;  that  one  whose 
circulation  is  heavy  and  sluggish  should  naturally 
be  apt  and  quick  in  perception  and  response,  is  out 
of  harmony  with  all  experience;  that  one  whose 
physical  condition  is  never  animated  nor  buoyant, 
can  without  effort  be  cheerful  and  aggressive,  is  one 
of  the  things  few  thoughtful  people  believe.  And 
yet,  in  spite  of  all  this,  we  are  almost  continually 
overlooking  the  physical  cause  of  children's  tem- 
peraments and  dispositions*  and  seeking  to  correct 
them  by  scolding,  punishing,  and  other  traditional 
and  irrational  remedies.  Often  a  child  has  been 
whipped  for  failing  to  complete  work  assigned  in 
an  allotted  time,  when  the  effort  required  would 
have  completely  prostrated  him ;  he  has  been  boxed 
for  restlessness,  when  one  good,  wholesome  meal 
would  have  appeased  a  hunger  that  would  not  let 
him  be  still;  he  has  been  ridiculed  for  melancholy 
that  diet  and  exercise  only  could  drive  away;  he 
has  been  degraded  for  failing  to  prepare  a  lesson, 
when  headache  or  indigestion  was  wholly  re- 
sponsible. Fretfulncss,  restlessness,  ennui,  indiffer- 
ence, stupidity,  willfulness,  timidity,  nervousness, 
impulsiveness,  and  many  kindred  mental  maladies 
in  children  that  perplex  and  annoy  and  defeat  the 
teacher  and  parent  are  the  natural  products  of 
disorders  in  digestion,  circulation,  or  some  other 
purely  physiological  function.  It  is  nothing  less 
than  a  crime  for  any  one  to  ignore  the  real  cause 
of  such  manifestations  in  the  child  and  to  attempt 


THE  SENSES.— ORGANIC.  5 

to  correct  them  b}^  reproof  and  punishment.  Such 
treatment  only  aggravates  the  trouble,  soon  mak- 
ing it  chronic,  whereas  a  rational  treatment  would 
generally  give  permanent  physical  relief  and  then 
the  mental  distemper  would  easily  yield,  often  even 
disappearing  of  its  own  accord.  There  are  few 
full-grown  men  and  women  of  such  equable  tem- 
peraments that  they  are  not  more  or  less  disturbed 
by  similar  causes.  If  this  be  the  case  with  those 
whose  \\'ills  have  been  trained  through  a  course 
of  years,  how  much  more  it  must  be  true  of  chil- 
dren whose  every  action  is  dictated  so  largely  by 
physical  imi^ulses. 

These  facts  need  neither  elaboration  nor  illus- 
tration; but  they  do  need  repetition  and  empha- 
sis. Many  a  child  has  been  roughly  shaken  for 
crying,  when  a  pin  was  later  discovered  to  be  the 
cause  of  the  trouble.  Others  have  been  dosed  and 
drugged  for  peevishness  that  was  caused  by  thirst 
only.  Others,  again,  have  been  jolted  on  a  friendly 
but  a  villainously  mistaken  knee  for  screaming, 
Avhen  every  jolt  but  intensified  the  awful  pain 
Avith  which  colic  was  already  stabbing  the  child. 
Thus  blindly  do  we  attempt  to  relieve  and  correct 
the  physical  and  mental  ills  of  the  babe.  Do  we 
approach  it  with  more  wisdom  when  it  is  five 
years  of  age?  If  the  healthy  action  of  these 
various  organic  functions  is  so  important  in  the 
formation  of  the  child's  temperament  and  dis- 
position, then  a  thorough  theoretical  and  prac- 
tical knowledge  of  food  principles,  of  hygiene, 
of  symptoms  and  remedies,  of  the  structure, 
development,    and    function   of   every   organ    of 


6  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

the  body,  as  well  as  of  the  relations  of  all  these 
to  the  psychical  activities,  is  little  enough  to 
demand  of  every  mother.  That  such  knowledge 
is  uncommon  makes  the  need  of  it  the  more  com- 
mon. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE   SENSES    (CONTINUED). — TEMPERATURE. 

The  organic  senses  just  mentioned  embrace 
those  senses  not  so  clearly  differentiated  in  the 
consciousness  as  the  six  senses  generally  recog- 
nized. They  give  us  a  knowledge  of  muscular 
movement,  of  hunger  and  thirst,  of  fatigue,  of 
respiration,  of  disease,  feelings  of  relish,  of  de- 
pression, of  exhilaration,  etc.  Few  of  them  are 
localized.  They  pertain  rather  to  the  system  as  a 
whole  than  to  any  particular  part  of  it. 

The  sense  of  temperature  is  now  clearly  dis- 
tinguished from  the  sense  of  touch  and  really 
makes  the  seventh  sense,  if  those  above  mentioned 
are  still  embraced  in  the  term  organic.  Take  a 
toothpick  or  a  sharp-pointed  lead  pencil  and  touch 
various  parts  of  the  palm  of  the  hand  and  it  will 
sometimes  appear  warm  and  sometimes  cold,  with 
occasional  places  where  neither  effect  appears.  By 
the  use  of  delicate  instruments  the  presence  and 
location  of  these  warm,  cold,  and  neutral  spots 
have  been  definitely  determined  and  mapped.  It 
would  appear  that  certain  nerve  filaments  have 
special  temperature  functions  entirely  distinct 
from  those  of  touch.  That  the  warm  and  cold 
spots  are  more  numerous  and  more  sensitive  in 


8  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

some  people  than  in  others  is  readily  seen  in  the 
ease  with  which  some  people  handle  hot  bars,  hot 
plates,  etc.,  or  with  which  they  put  their  hands  or 
feet  into  hot  water,  or  drink  hot  liquids,  while 
others  are  almost  thrown  into  spasms  when  they 
attempt  it.  The  character  of  the  epidermis — the 
outer  skin — has  much  to  do  with  the  sensitiveness 
to  heat  or  cold.  The  calloused  hand  of  a  black- 
smith or  a  cook  enables  him  to  handle  hot  pokers 
and  stove  lids  that  would  blister  the  tender  fingers 
of  a  child.  A  mother  not  infrequently  scalds  the 
feet  of  her  child  by  forcing  them  into  water  which 
is  "  hardly  warm  "  to  her  toughened  fingers,  and 
so  brings  on  disorders  far  more  serious  than  that 
which  she  was  striving  to  cure.  Many  a  babe's 
mouth  is  sorely  blistered  by  a  hot  gargle  that  the 
nurse,  accustomed  to  drink  boiling-hot  tea  three 
times  a  day,  declares  to  be  "  just  warm,  now 
dearie."  Hot  plasters  and  poultices  are  clapped 
on  the  little  innocents  without  intelligence  or 
mercy  for  the  same  reasons,  and  incalculable  in- 
jury is  thus  done  to  a  multitude  of  children. 

Incidentally,  it  should  here  be  mentioned  that 
some  children  are  naturally  warmer-blooded  and 
need  less  clothing  than  others ;  they  are  often  suf- 
fering from  the  heat  in  a  room  where  others  are 
perfectly  comfortable.  They  need  food  with  more 
nitrogeny)us  and  less  fatty  material  in  it  than  their 
colder-blodded  fellows.  I  had  a  neighbor  whose 
veins  were  always  surcharged  with  rich  blood,  who 
kept  his  home  four  or  five  degrees  cooler  in  win- 
ter than  the  normal,  G8°  to  70°,  and  his  children 
with  thinner  blood  were  constantly  suffering  more 


THE  SENSES.— TEMPERATURE.  9 

or  less  in  consequence.  Another,  with  sluggish 
arteries,  kept  his  home  so  warm  that  his  boys  and 
girls,  inheriting  tlieir  mother's  vigorous  tempera- 
ment, were  often  nervously  prostrate.  They  took 
cold  nearly  everywhere  they  went,  and  certain  seri- 
ous ills  were  surely  chargeable  to  nothing  else. 

If  this  were  strictly  a  mother's  book,  I  would 
enter  into  details  concerning  a  variety  of  skin  dis- 
eases in  which  the  temperature  sense  is  more  or  less 
involved,  and  which  contribute  their  full  share 
toward  the  development  of  the  disposition  of  the 
child,  but  I  shall  content  myself  with  a  mere  refer- 
ence to  them  and  with  a  reminder  that  there  are 
far  higher  reasons  for  getting  rid  of  them  prompt- 
ly than  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  comfort  and 
health  of  the  child. 

Sufficient  has  been  said,  however,  to  sliow  the 
teacher  the  necessity  of  studying  the  temperature 
problem  as  applied  to  every  child  in  his  classes. 
It  is  impossible  to  have  an  equable  temperature  in 
every  part  of  a  room,  particularly  when  heated  by 
a  stove,  but  it  is  possible  to  put  the  colder-blooded 
and  the  thinl}^  clad  near  the  stove  and  the  others 
in  more  distant  parts  of  the  room.  It  is  also 
possible  to  manage  the  heat  so  as  to  keep  it  near 
the  normal.  The  health  of  the  children  requires 
it;  comfort,  good  order,  and  effective  instruction 
are  impossible  without  it.  Friendly  feeling  and 
interest  in  work  seldom  develop  in  a  cold  room ; 
reflective  thought  and  keen  analysis  are  paralyzed 
in  a  hot  one.  Many  teachers  owe  their  failure  in 
keeping  order  to  inability  to  keep  the  sclioolroom 
properly  ventilated  and  heated. 


10  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

The  test  for  the  normal  temperature  of  a  child 
is  possibly  best  made  by  conferring  with  the 
mother,  and  by  a  few  inquiries  of  the  child  him- 
self from  day  to  day.  Thermometers  applied  to 
the  body  will  be  of  little  avail.  It  will  take  but 
a  week  or  two  for  a  teacher  to  discover  whether 
a  pupil  is  above  or  below  the  average  normal  and 
to  seat  him  accordingly.  Of  course,  he  should  not 
make  the  mistake  of  thinking  that  temperature 
alone  must  decide  the  question  of  location.  Some 
children  are  very  sensitive  to  draughts,  while  others 
seem  to  be  affected  little  by  them.  The  seeds  of 
permanent  ill  health  or  of  fatal  disease  may  easily 
be  given  root  in  a  single  day  by  neglecting  these 
precautions. 

Two  seemingly  parallel  straight  lines  may  he  hut 
an  inch  apart  at  their  origin  and  yet  he  ten  feet  apart 
at  the  end  of  a  mile.  So  these  little  things  may  not 
seem  of  much  moment  at  present,  hut  in  a  few  years 
their  effect  is  too  sadly  realized. 

The  intellectual  value  of  the  senses  thus  far 
mentioned  is  very  small.  They  simply  give  us  a 
knowledge  of  the  condition  of  the  physical  organ- 
ism in  a  general  and  in  a  specific  way;  some  of 
them  not  even  localizing  a  disorder  or  a  want  of 
the  body — as  thirst,  hunger,  etc.  The  temperature 
sense  is  easily  recognized  as  one  step  higher  in  the 
series,  for  it  not  only  gives  us  a  knowledge  of  the 
general  temperature  of  the  body,  but  of  individual 
parts  of  the  body  as  well.  Further,  it  is  the  first  to 
give  us  a  knowledge  of  the  external  world,  but 
even  that  knowledge  is  limited  to  the  simple  in- 
formation   concerning    its    temperature    as    com-. 


THE  SENSES.— TEMPERATURE.  H 

pared  witli  that  of  the  body.  While  the  others  per- 
mit a  child  to  say,  "  1  am  hungry,  I  am  tired,  I 
feel  my  hand  moving,  I  have  the  colic,  I  am  sick 
at  the  stomach,"  this  sense  permits  him  to  say,  "  I 
am  cold,"  and  to  add,  "  It  is  cold,"  meaning  some- 
thing outside  of  himself,  as  the  air,  a  chair,  water, 
the  bed,  the  poker,  etc. 

The  organic  senses  give  him  immediate  knowl- 
edge of  his  physical  well-  or  ill-being  only,  while 
his  skill  in  many  of  the  arts  is  dependent  in  large 
measure  upon  the  delicacy  with  which  he  discrimi- 
nates temperature.  The  thermometer  serves  a 
useful  purpose  in  many  of  them,  but  if  the  artisan 
relies  upon  it  alone  he  will  be  a  poor  workman  in- 
deed. The  need,  then,  of  great  care  in  cultivat- 
ing this  sense  for  the  sake  of  bodily  comfort  and 
bodily  health  is  almost  equaled  by  the  practical 
demands  made  in  everyday  life.  Few  more  help- 
less creatures  can  be  imagined  than  those  who  have 
lost  the  sense  by  which  they  appreciate  heat  or 
cold,  and  so  are  liable  to  sustain  frightful  injury 
without  being  conscious  of  it  until  it  is  revealed 
by  some  other  sense.  So,  in  a  practical  way,  how 
sorry  a  laundress  is  the  girl  who  has  not  learned 
how  to  test  the  temperature  of  her  sadiron,  or  how 
provoking  is  a  cook  who  is  unable  to  discover  the 
right  temperature  of  her  oven  by  a  single  sweep 
of  her  hand,  how  culpable  is  a  housekeeper  or  a 
teacher  if  she  lack  in  ability  to  notice  the  changes 
in  the  temperature  of  the  rooms  in  which  the  chil- 
dren live.  A  part,  then,  of  every  child's  education 
is  to  learn  how  to  use  this  sense  skillfully  and 
profitably. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE    SENSES    (CONTINUED). — TASTE. 

Possibly  the  first  sense  to  begin  differentiat- 
ing is  that  of  taste.  The  first  food  entering  the 
mouth  not  only  satisfies  hunger,  but  is  grateful 
to  the  taste  as  well.  It  may  be  that  the  newborn 
child  is  provided  with  taste  buds  that  respond 
even  more  generously  than  they  do  later,  for  the 
specific  purpose  of  encouraging  it  to  take  the  food 
Nature  has  provided.  At  any  rate,  a  very  short 
time  suffices  to  enable  it  to  discriminate  between 
the  sweet  and  wholesome  milk  and  the  insipid  or 
adulterated  article,  as  many  nurses  can  fully  tes- 
tify. From  such  a  simple  beginning,  skill  in  dis- 
tinguishing among  foods  grows  until  many  thou- 
sand different  kinds  can  easily  be  detected.  So 
highly  may  this  sense  be  educated  that  it  is  said 
that  expert  tea  tasters  in  the  employ  of  the  great 
tea  houses  can  easily  recognize  as  high  as  fifty  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  teas  that  have  been  mixed  and 
steeped  together.  Epicures  and  lovers  of  the  table 
in  general  are  not  necessarily  gormands  and  glut- 
tons, for  they  find  their  highest  enjoyment  not 
in  the  amount  they  eat,  but  rather  in  its  ability  to 
awaken  pleasurable  taste.  Ten  times  more  labor 
is  put  upon  foods  and  drinks  to  make  them  pala- 
13 


THE  SENSES.— TASTE.  13 

table  than  is  put  upon  them  to  make  them  whole- 
some. Nine  cooks  out  of  ten  work  to  tickle  the 
palate  more  than  to  insure  ready  digestion.  The 
"  best "  things  at  the  average  table  are  those  that 
awaken  a  new  and  pleasing  sensation  at  the  time 
of  eating,  rather  than  comfort  afterward.  Even 
the  staples  come  to  the  table  with  subtle  flavors 
that  the  ingenuity  of  the  cook  has  dexterously 
added.  Fruits  in  incredible  variety  are  cultivated, 
not  so  much  for  their  nutritive  quality  as  for  their 
ability  to  awaken  corresponding  variety  in  relish. 
The  forests  of  the  earth  are  searched  for  nuts  and 
oils  and  leaves  and  roots  that  may  stimulate  a 
wider  range  of  pleasure  in  the  mouth  of  man. 
Luxuries,  those  dishes  that  delight  the  palate  but 
serve  little  as  tissue  builders,  cost  us  more  money 
than  the  necessaries  of  life.  Many  men  are  kept 
poor  to  the  end  of  their  days  because  most  of  their 
earnings  go  into  this  red-hot  hopper!  More  sick- 
ness and  physical  misery  are  caused  by  eating 
highly  seasoned  food  than  by  any  dozen  other 
causes  combined.  That  which  Nature  designed  as 
a  gentle  stimulus  to  taste  and  to  digestion  has 
too  generally  become  the  scourge  to  both.  Nature 
intended  that  taste  and  digestion  should  be  warm 
friends:  we  have  often  made  them  bitter  enemies. 
Then,  for  purely  physical  reasons,  the  proper  cul- 
tivation of  the  sense  of  taste  assumes  proportions 
in  the  care  and  culture  of  the  child  that  few  peo- 
ple understand.  It  is  just  as  important  as  exer- 
cise or  sleep. 

Parents  insist  on  their  children  eating  slowly 
and  chewing  their  food  well,  but,  while  that  is  es- 


14  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

sential,  there  are  other  weighty  things  in  the  law 
also.  When  they  are  apprehended,  they  will  read 
somewhat  as  follows: 

For  the  first  dozen  years  of  a  child's  life  his 
sense  of  taste  should  be  developed  with  the  same 
care  as  the  control  and  use  of  his  voluntary  muscles 
or  of  any  of  the  organs  of  the  body.  Highly  sea- 
soned foods  and  stimulating  drinks  should  seldom 
be  given  him.  On  the  contrary,  wholesome  food 
in  sufficient  variety  of  kind  and  flavor  should  be 
given  to  make  eating  a  pleasure  and  to  maintain 
easy  digestion  and  healthy  growth.  Children's 
appetites  are  the  best  spices  at  any  table.  If  they 
be  wanting,  it  is  poor  economy  to  resort  to  arti- 
ficial means.  It  frequently  happens  that  a  child 
refuses  every  dish  on  the  table  and  clamors  for 
one  that  his  rugged  father  finds  it  difficult  to 
digest.  It  is  better  that  he  eat  nothing  until  the 
next  meal  than  to  yield  to  his  appeal.  A  month's 
indulgence  in  such  demands  often  insures  dys- 
pepsia before  the  child  is  twenty  years  of  age. 
Of  course,  it  is  as  cruel  and  unreasonable  to  force 
children  to  eat  things  for  which  they  have  an  aver- 
sion, as  it  would  be  to  force  them  to  look  at  colors 
.that  pain  the  eye.  With  very  few  resources  and 
very  little  tact  any  mother  may  easily  discover 
what  suitable  dishes  her  children  like  and  provide 
them  in  sufficient  variety  to  make  every  meal  a 
delight.  Simple  foods  satisfy  children,  and  the 
change  should  come  in  variety  and  not  in  sea- 
soning. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  enter  into  the  discus- 
sion of  the  subject  of  the  preparation  of  food,  but 


THE  SENSES.— TASTE.  15 

it  should  be  said  that  the  art  of  cooking  is  being 
revolutionized  in  these  days,  and  that  what  a  poor 
cook  has  been  covering  up  with  sugar  and  salt  and 
pepper  and  spices,  the  new  cook  is  presenting  in 
both  a  palatable  and  a  digestible  form  with  the 
merest  suggestion  of  the  spice  box.  All  hail  to  the 
new  system,  but  it  has  a  great  work  yet  to  do  in 
solving  the  problem  for  the  normal  development  of 
the  sense  of  taste  in  the  child.  With  that  under 
proper  control,  the  health  problem  solves  more 
easily. 

The  sense  of  taste  is  not  to  be  cultivated  by 
suppressing  and  confining  it  to  a  few  foods.  The 
greater  the  number  and  variety  of  the  simpler 
forms,  Nature's  own  productions,  the  less  demand 
will  there  be  for  foods  of  the  hot  tamale  order. 
But  even  here  great  harm  may  be  done  in  nurtur- 
ing a  desire  for  change  that  may  react,  begetting 
disorders  similar  to  those  just  mentioned.  The 
intimate  relationship  between  the  mind  and  the 
vegetative  system  is  so  close  that  the  former  can 
never  be  ignored  in  considering  the  food  problem. 
Imagination  and  emotion  powerfully  affect  both 
taste  and  digestion.  The  course  to  be  pursued  in 
the  case  of  each  individual  child  can  only  be  de- 
termined as  his  tastes,  already  awakening,  are  dis- 
covered and  the  resources  of  his  family  are  known. 
Then  the  problem  for  the  mother  .is  not  to  find 
ways  and  means  for  pandering  to  them,  but  for 
correcting  and  educating  them.  Lectures  may  do 
them  little  good,  but  the  right  kind  of  dishes  Avill 
sooner  or  later  accomplish  the  end. 

Not  only  is  all  this  to  be  done  for  the  sake  of 


16  THE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

the  health  of  the  child,  but  for  his  moral  char- 
acter as  well.  Taste  for  highly  seasoned  food  and 
stimulating  drinks  almost  invariably  becomes  ap- 
petite, consuming  and  uncontrollable,  later  in  life. 
Its  long  train  of  evils  need  not  be  rehearsed  here. 
No  heart  is  so  pure,  no  soul  so  noble,  that  phys- 
ical appetite  long  unrestrained  does  not  corrupt. 
Every  mother  has  it  in  her  power  to  form  the 
tastes  and  appetites  of  her  children.  They  are 
always  formed,  but  the  process  of  re-forming  is 
frequently  a  heartbreaking  failure.  Crimes  hide- 
ous and  revolting  might  easily  have  been  prevented 
by  a  little  intelligence  and  firmness  in  shaping  the 
tastes  of  the  child  for  food  and  drink.  Nothing 
'ever  written  is  truer  than  this. 

This  sense  is  also  intended  to  contribute  to 
man's  physical  enjoyment.  Its  proper  cultivation 
refines  and  enlarges  that  enjoyment  not  only  in 
a  sensuous  way,  but  in  an  intellectual  way  as  well. 
So  intimately  is  the  delicate  discrimination  of 
foods  allied  to  good  judgment  in  an  intellectual, 
and  particularly  in  an  aesthetic  way,  that  the 
word  taste  is  universally  used  in  distinguishing 
men  and  women  of  refined  culture  from  those  of 
the  commoner  sort. 

The  sense  of  taste  is  used  in  many  of  the  arts 
and  sciences,  though  possibly  not  so  generally  as 
that  of  smell  and  the  others  to  be  mentioned  here- 
after. Every  good  cook — and  half  of  the  human 
race  ought  to  be  good  cooks — needs  a  highly  culti- 
vated taste  to  test  the  quality  of  her  mixtures  and 
dishes;  she  is  helpless  without  it.  The  mineralo- 
gist, the  grocer,  the  pharmacist,  the  physician,  the 


THE  SENSES.— TASTE  17 

fruit  dealer,  the  confectioner,  the  dairyman,  the 
restaurateur,  the  baker,  and  many  other  profes- 
sional, industrial,  and  commercial  people  find 
highly  developed  taste  invaluable.  x\.  great  army 
of  men  and  women  are  employed  in  the  prepara- 
tion and  sale  of  foods.  The  excellence  of  every 
pound  prepared  or  sold  is  dependent  upon  the  de- 
gree of  cultivation  of  the  taste  of  manufacturer 
and  tradesman.  Everywhere  3'ou  turn  you  easily 
see  the  practical  value  of  an  educated  taste. 

\ 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE    SENSES    (CONTINUED). SMELL. 

In  the  order  of  intellectual  value  the  sense 
of  smell  is  next  to  be  noted.  It  also  serves  a  dou- 
ble function,  subjective  and  objective.  For  some 
time  after  birth  it  is  not  differentiated  from  the 
other  physical  senses,  but  at  about  the  age  of  three 
months  begins  to  serve  as  a  help  in  distinguishing 
food  and  soon  after  to  contribute  materially  to  the 
sensuous  pleasures  of  the  child.  With  taste,  it 
stands  a  watchful  guardian  to  protect  the  system 
from  injurious  foods.  It  also  adds  much  to  the 
relish  of  many  dishes  by  mingling  the  enjoyment 
of  their  aroma  with  that  of  their  flavor.  The 
grateful  feeling  throughout  the  whole  body  ac- 
companying slight  changes  in  temperature  serves 
well  as  an  introduction  to  the  higher  physical 
pleasures  that  fragrant  odors  produce.  Poets  sing 
of  the  delights  of  the  bath  and  of  the  gentle 
zephyrs  that  lull  to  restful  sleep,  but  their  lyres 
assume  a  lighter,  quicker  movement  as  they  de- 
scribe the  odors  of  the 

"  May-flowers  blooming  around  them  ; 
Fragrant,  filling  the  air  with  a  strange  and  wonderful 
sweetness." 
18 


THE  SENSES.— SMELL.  19 

For  the  physical  well-being  alone,  the  organ 
of  smell  needs  that  same  careful  attention  that 
any  other  sense  organ  demands.  Its  structure  is 
easily  understood  b}^  reference  to  any  work  on 
anatomy  or  physiology.  The  delicacy  of  the 
Schneiderian  membrane,  on  which  are  spread  out 
the  fine  filaments  of  the  olfactory  nerve  and 
against  which  the  odorous  particles  must  pass,  is, 
however,  not  so  generall}'  appreciated  as  it  ought 
to  be.  The  turbinated  chambers  are  kept  pliable 
and  sensitive  by  a  regular  supply  of  moisture 
whose  slight  variation  affects  at  once  both  the 
ability  to  distinguish  odors  and  the  health  of  the 
organ.  Probably  no  other  organ  so  quickly  re- 
veals a  great  variety  of  bodily  disorders.  It  serves 
as  a  distress  flag,  giving  notice  of  internal  derange- 
ment. It  is  liable  to  painful  diseases  of  its  own, 
such  as  catarrh,  polypi,  adenoidal  growths,  etc. 
Most  of  them  are  more  incident  to  childhood  than 
to  manhood,  and  unless  promptly  detected  and 
suppressed  become  the  generators  of  a  whole  brood 
of  ills  that  make  life  miserable  for  one's  com- 
panions as  well  as  for  himself.  Sometimes  the' 
trouble  originates  in  one  duct,  sometimes  in  both. 
It  frequently  happens  that  the  sense  of  smell  in  a 
child  is  practically  destroyed,  and  that  an  offensive 
disease  has  fastened  itself  upon  him  before  the 
parents  know  that  an3i;hing  is  wrong.  No  child 
ever  has  a  cold,  or  a  fever,  or  frontal  inflamma- 
tions of  any  character,  that  may  not  settle  in  that 
tender  network  of  bone  and  nerves  at  the  base  of 
the  nose.  Skin  eruptions  are  likely  to  find  a  home 
there  also.    Occasionally  some  insect  or  some  hard 


20  THE  STUDY  OP   THE   CHILD. 

substance  lodges  in  one  of  the  canals  and  endan- 
gers even  the  life  of  the  child.  The  only  safe 
course  with  children  is  to  be  constantly  on  the 
lookout  for  disorders.  Sympathetic  intimacy  with 
them  will  usually  bring  them  to  you  on  the  slight- 
est disturbance  in  this  or  in  any  other  organ,  and 
their  appeal  should  have  instant  and  intelligent 
response.  The  derangement  may  not  seem  serious 
and  it  may  be  but  temporary.  If  it  be  serious, 
however,  or  if  it  does  not  appear  serious  and  yet 
is  persistent,  medical  assistance  should  be  sought. 
Often  these  nasal  affections  are  manifestations  of 
systemic  disturbances,  but,  whether  one  or  the 
other,  remedies  can  not  too  quickly  be  applied. 

Two  seemingly  parallel  straight  lines  may  be  hut 
an  inch  apart  at  their  origin  and  yet  lie  ten  feet  apart 
at  the  end  of  a  mile,  and  a  nasal  disorder  that 
appears  very  slight  in  the  child  may  in  manhood  be 
robbing  life  of  all  its  pleasure. 

This  little  volume  would  grow  to  undue  pro- 
portions if  space  should  be  taken  to  describe  the 
diseases  to  which  the  different  sense  organs  are 
subject,  together  with  their  symptoms  and  reme- 
dies, and  yet  the  object  would  not  be  attained  if 
simple  methods  of  discovering  the  affections  were 
not  presented.  The  closing  of  one  nostril  by  ex- 
ternal pressure  with  the  finger  and  the  child's 
effort  to  force  air  through  the  other  as  he  expels 
it  from  the  lungs  readily  reveals  obstructions  and 
frequently  removes  them.  The  inability  of  the 
child  to  breathe  through  his  nostrils,  which  is  the 
way  Nature  intended,  is  always  cause  for  atten- 
tion, though  in  case  of  colds  not  necessarily  for 


THE  SENSES.— SMELL.  21 

uneasiness.  If  a  child  of  six  or  seven  has  no  cold, 
and  yet  can  not  distinguish  the  odors  of  flowers, 
perfumes,  kinds  of  fruit,  etc.,  the  cause  of  it  should 
he  ascertained  as  soon  as  possible  and  its  removal 
intelligently  attemi)ted.  Very  simple  remedies  may 
prove  effectual  at  once.  Possibly  the  development 
of  this  sense  is  a  little  belated  and  the  presentation 
of  a  few  strikingl}^  different  odors  may  at  once 
arouse  and  stimulate  it.  If  the  child  complains 
of  dull  pains  or  of  pressure  between  the  eyes  for  a 
week  or  two,  it  is  a  sure  sign  of  incipient  catarrh, 
or  of  a  kindred  disease,  and  needs  skillful  treat- 
ment. 

To  the  general  feeling  of  well-being,  when  the 
other  senses  already  mentioned  are  responding  nat- 
urally, the  sense  of  temperature  may  possihly  add 
the  slightest  glimmer  of  the  aesthetic  element,  but 
it  comes  into  grateful  prominence  with  the  growth 
of  the  sense  of  smell.  In  addition  to  its  utility  as 
a  factor  in  determining  the  nature  of  food,  smell 
also  proves  of  great  value  in  an  intellectual  and 
practical  way.  It  assists  in  getting  knowledge  of  a 
thousand  things  in  the  world  round  about  us.  The 
botanist  is  dependent  upon  it  for  distinguishing 
many  varieties  of  plants;  the  mineralogist  would 
be  sorely  handicapped  in  classifying  minerals  if  his 
sense  of  smell  were  to  fail  him;  the  biologist  with- 
out a  good  nose  would  be  almost  as  bad  as  a  miner 
without  a  lantern;  the  chemist  would  be  in  greater 
confusion  than  Pandora,  when  she  opened  her 
famous  box,  if  he  were  unable  to  discover  the  odor 
of  the  various  compounds  in  his  laboratory.  What 
is  true  of  the  sciences  is  also  as  true  of  the  arts. 


22  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

Many  diseases  are  revealed  to  the  physician  large- 
ly by  their  odor.  The  plumber  and  gasfitter  would 
not  earn  his  salt  who  could  not  discover  the  pres- 
ence of  deleterious  or  poisonous  gases  by  their 
peculiar  odor.  Without  this  sense  the  cook  could 
hardly  know  that  a  stew  is  burning,  a  sauce  is  fer- 
menting, an  egg  is  addled,  or  that  a  dish  will 
prove  relishable  at  the  table.  Without  this  sense 
one  would  succeed  poorly  in  handling  drugs,  per- 
fumery, groceries,  farm  products  of  all  kinds,  etc. 
Without  it  what  wovdd  become  of 

'•  The  butcher  and  the  baker 
And  the  candlestick  maker?" 

Properly  trained,  it  is  a  good  insurance  against 
fire,  for  it  often  reveals  the  presence  of  fire  in  the 
house  long  before  any  other  sense  discovers  it. 

The  sense  of  smell  as  an  aesthetic  sense  has 
already  been  mentioned.  It  has  always  been 
prized,  even  among  barbarous  nations,  for  its 
pleasure-producing  capacities;  the  sweet-smelling 
unguent  and  the  musk-scented  ointment  are  as 
popular  among  the  wild  men  of  Borneo  as  among 
the  dilettante  of  the  salons  of  Paris.  Fragrant 
odors  vied  with  the  cithara  and  the  harp  in  the 
entertainments  at  the  royal  palaces  of  Egypt,  of 
Assyria,  of  Phoenicia,  of  Greece,  and  of  Kome.  As 
guests  entered,  the  glad  welcome  of  sweet  music 
was  even  excelled  by  the  sweeter  perfumes,  whose 
fragrance  filled  the  ambient  air;  the  rich  tapes- 
tries, the  multicolored  rugs,  the  luxurious  couches 
exhaled  the  attar  of  roses,  the  aroma  of  myrrh  and 
of  the  pomegranate;  while  fine  spray,  laden  with 


THE  SENSES.— SMELL.  23 

lavender,  fell  in  lloating  mists  over  the  fair  com- 
panjr  as  they  passed  around  and  among  the  rare 
plants  that  added  their  wealth  of  beauty  to  the 
splendor  of  the  scene,  (ientle  ladies  through  all 
the  ages  have  sought  the  choicest  waters  and  per- 
fumes for  their  toilets,  and  they  are  now  regarded 
as  necessaries  in  the  boudoir  of  every  cultivated 
woman,  whether  Christian  or  pagan.  But  how- 
ever successfully  art  may  bring  captive  these  rare 
extracts  from  Nature's  rarest  laboratories,  the  per- 
fumed air  of  springtime,  of  summer,  and  of  au- 
tumn gray,  freighted  with  the  blushes  of  opening 
flowers,  with  the  rustle  of  nodding  grain,  and 
the  aroma  of  the  mellowing  fruit,  awakens  har- 
monies and  images  of  subtler  beauty  and  deeper 
meaning. 

But  much  of  this  is  known  to  everybody,  and 
it  finds  a  place  here  simply  to  emphasize  more 
fully  the  importance  of  the  care  and  culture  of 
the  sense  of  smell.  The  noseless  man  knows  less 
by  far  than  many  people  imagine.  Into  w^hatever 
walk  or  occupation  in  life  a  child  is  to  go,  he  wall 
need  for  his  physical  well-being,  for  his  general 
knowledge,  for  his  aesthetic  enjoyment,  for  his 
practical  use,  a  sensitive,  delicately  discriminating 
sense  of  smell.  The  health  of  the  organ  is  the 
first  requisite,  but  that  is  important  only  as  en- 
abling it  to  profit  by  training  and  to  attain  imto 
the  highest  possible  perfection.  The  means  at 
hand  are  so  various  and  so  al)undant  that  further 
suggestions  will  be  withheld  until  the  chapter  on 
general  methods  of  cultivating  the  senses  is 
reached. 


CHAPTEE   V. 

THE    SENSES     (CONTINUED). — TOUCH. 

The  cliild  enters  the  world  furnished  with 
all  the  instruments  necessary  for  becoming  ac- 
quainted with  it,  for  protecting  itself  against  it, 
and  for  finally  becoming  its  master.  Nature 
kindly  anticipated  the  coming  by  providing  the 
child  with  a  more  or  less  perfect  covering,  so  that 
the  shock  of  transition  shall  not  be  too  great.  In 
spite  of  this  fact,  it  frequently  happens  that  even 
a  slight  change  of  temperature  or  the  contact  with 
its  clothing,  though  ever  so  soft,  produces  great 
pain.  What  effect  the  manner  of  handling  the 
child  in  these  first  few  hours  or  days  has  upon  its 
future  life,  the  Infinite  only  knows;  but  that  it 
has  a  right  to  intelligent,  sympathetic  care,  none 
but  a  brute  denies.  Nature  still  remains  its  friend, 
and  slowly  hardens  the  epidermal  cells,  so  that 
soon  the  extreme  sensitiveness  is  gone  and  the 
child  rests  quietly  in  its  crib.  The  delicate  termi- 
nal nerve  filaments  that  at  first  were  easily  set  on 
fire  are  covered  a  little  more  fully,  and  all  over 
the  body  companion  filaments  begin  to  respond 
in  an  orderly,  pleasurable  way  to  outside  pres- 
sure. 

Through  the  sensations  thus  aroused  the  child 
24 


THE  SENSES.— TOUCH.  25 

soon  begins  an  acquaintance  with  the  external 
world  and  succeeds  in  localizing,  or  placing,  at 
least  in  a  general  way,  the  objects  touching  it. 
What  a  wonderful  thousand-direction  sense  is  this 
sense  of  touch!  As  the  babe  lies  in  the  cradle, 
nothing  can  come  in  contact  with  it  on  back  or 
front,  on  hand  or  foot,  above  or  below,  right  or 
left,  but  that  the  news  is  instantly  carried  to  the 
brain.  If  the  object  be  rough  or  sharp,  irritation 
results;  if  it  be  soft  or  smooth,  gratification. 

The  sense  of  touch  increases  in  sensitiveness 
and  delicacy  much  more  rapidly  in  some  parts  of 
the  body  than  in  others.  If  two  toothpicks,  or 
pencils,  or  a  pair  of  dividers  be  separated  slightly 
at  the  points  and  lightly  pressed  against  the 
cheek  of  a  child,  he  will  probably  declare  that 
there  is  but  one  point  touching  him,  but  if  applied 
to  the  lips,  tip  of  the  tongue,  or  finger,  he  will 
immediately  say  there  are  two.  If  now  the  dis- 
tance between  the  points  be  increased  and  applied 
again  to  the  cheek,  he  may  detect  two  points,  but 
on  being  applied  to  the  neck,  only  one.  The  thigh 
is  found  to  possess  less  power  of  discrimination 
than  any  other  part  of  the  body;  the  fingers  and 
the  tongue  tip  the  greatest.  This  difference  in 
discrimination  is  due  to  the  difference  in  the  dis- 
tances between  the  various  nerve  endings  of  the 
sense  of  touch.  One  great  peculiarity  about  them 
is  that  they  seem  to  multiply  with  use.  There  are 
also  differences  in  what  is  called  the  threshold  value 
of  touch — that  is,  the  degree  of  pressure  required 
to  awaken  sensation.  This  also  varies  in  different 
parts  of  the  body  and  in  different  persons. 


26  THE  STUDY  OF  THE   CHILD. 

The  offices  of  this  sense  in  the  physical  econ- 
omy are  easily  seen  to  be  various.     It  is  essential 
to  the  protection  of  all  parts  of  the  body  against 
injury,  and,  like  the  sense  of  temperature,  is  more 
sensitive   in    parts   that   are    most    susceptible   to 
harm.     It  immediately  reveals  the  presence  of  in- 
sects and  vermin  of  every  description;  of  objects 
in  the  way  or  coming  against  it,  whether  sharp 
or  dull,  rough  or  smooth,  hard  or  soft;  and  of  too 
great  pressure  or  constriction  of  any  part  of  the 
clothing.      Through   association,   it  indirectly  re- 
veals much  concerning  such  objects  that  is  not 
given  by  pressure  proper.     What  miserable  crea- 
tures we  should  be  if  compelled  to  wait  for  a  fly 
to  bite  or  a  mosquito  to  fill  his  nib  before  know- 
ing of  his  presence.    Think  of  the  suffering  which 
would  everywhere  ensue  if  we  could  know  nothing 
of    a    rough    substance    until    continual    rubbing 
against  it  had  produced  rawness  or  inflammation 
of  the  skin.     The  sense  of  touch  is  the  special 
guardian  of  the  eye.    Whenever  it  fails  in  its  duty 
there,  intense  suffering  may  result.     It  also  pre- 
vents the  ears  and  mouth  and  nose  from  many  a 
sad  mishap.    Contact  with  the  tongue  often  reveals 
the  nature  of  food  by  association  before  the  sense 
of  taste  has  been  aroused,  and,  so  together  with 
smell,   touch  assists  taste  to  discriminate  among 
foods  and  to  protect  the  system  against  offensive 
or  poisonous  substances. 

This  passive  touch  is  greatly  re-enforced  and 
multiplied  by  the  addition  of  muscular  movements 
and  their  associated  sensations.  It  is  then  called 
active  touch,  because  the  voluntary  muscles  are 


THE  SENSES.— TOUCH.  27 

exercised  in  !jringin<^  any  part  of  the  body  desired 
into  contact  with  an  object.  As  an  illustration, 
the  arm  may  be  thrown  around  a  column,  the  feet 
run  over  a  ball,  the  lingers  clasped  around  an  ink 
bottle,  tlie  hand  slipped  rapidly  over  a  book,  and 
in  each  case  the  varying  pressure,  combined  with 
the  different  muscular  sensations,  reveals  the  shape 
and  surface  of  the  object.  It  is  now  conceded  that 
the  idea  of  solidity  itself,  the  idea  of  three  dimen- 
sions— length,  breadth,  and  thickness — is  derived 
through  active  touch.  Without  it,  every  object 
would  appear  flat  and  no  adequate  conception  of 
the  positions  of  objects  in  space  could  be  attained. 
This  co-operation  of  the  muscles  gives  the  touch  a 
sufficient  number  of  simultaneous  or  of  rapidly 
successive  sensations  to  enable  the  mind  to  deter- 
mine the  shape,  size,  surface,  texture,  and  hardness 
of  an  object.  j\Iuch  skill  in  discriminating,  as 
with  the  other  senses,  develops  slowly  and  develops 
with  practice  only.  The  time  comes,  however, 
when  the  amount  of  muscular  movement  required 
is  very  slight  in  any  given  case  and  by  a  process 
of  association  and  symbolism,  to  be  explained  later, 
the  mind  instantly  recognizes  the  characteristics 
named.  The  distance  from  one  part  of  an  object 
to  another  is  revealed  by  the  observed  amount  of 
muscular  effort  required  to  move  the  hand  or  part 
of  the  hand  from  one  to  the  other.  The  distance 
between  objects  is  determined  in  the  same  way, 
though  other  muscles  may  be  used  and  other  parts 
of  the  body,  or  the  whole  body,  moved,  as  in  the 
case  of  walking  or  jumping. 

Though  afterward,  by  association  and  symbol- 


28  THE  STUDY   OP  THE   CHILD. 

ism,  this  special  function  of  touch  is  hirgely  as- 
sumed by  sight,  the  accuracy  of  sight  perception 
as  well  as  of  the  information  still  furnished  us  by 
touch,  is  entirely  dependent  upon  the  way  in  which 
the  sense  of  touch  is  educated  in  the  child.  This 
sense  is  sometimes  defective  or  belated,  and  what 
is  often  ascribed  to  the  dullness  of  the  child's  in- 
tellect or  to  inattention  and  indifference  is  found 
upon  investigation  to  be  due  to  one  of  the  causes 
named.  The  test  can  easily  be  made  by  placing 
in  the  child's  hand  a  variety  of  forms,  surfaces, 
and  textures  for  him  to  compare.  He  should  not 
be  tested  on  his  ability  to  designate  by  the  proper 
terms,  for  that  tests  his  memory  and  not  his  phys- 
ical sense,  but  upon  his  ability  to  pick  out  two  or 
more  things  of  similar  shape,  surface,  or  texture;  in 
a  similar  way,  by  touch  only,  also  to  tell  relative 
sizes  of  objects.  If  he  be  found  lacking,  the  divider 
and  pressure  tests  may  also  be  used.  It  is  highly 
probable  that  few  cases  will  be  found  where  daily , 
exercises  in  discriminating  by  touch  will  not  in  a 
reasonable  time  show  surprisingly  happy  results. 
Mere  guesses  should  not  be  allowed.  Accurac}', 
then  rapidity,  must  be  the  constant  aim.  If,  after 
a  few  weeks,  no  appreciable  progress  is  discover- 
able, a  physician  should  make  an  examination  and 
advise  upon  the  course  to  be  pursued.  The  cause 
may  not  lie  in  the  peripheral  nor  in  the  afferent 
nerves,  but  in  the  brain,  and  the  sooner  known  the 
better.  Possibly  methods  of  educating  the  sense 
have  been  wrong;  possibly  general  nervous  de- 
rangement frustrates  the  efforts;  possibly  in  some 
way  the  child's  mind  has  not  yet  learned  how  to 


THE  SENSES.— TOUCH.  29 

treat  the  sensations  that  arc  constantly  pouring 
into  his  little  soul,  and  some  gentle  means  must  be 
used  to  make  that  connection  between  mind  and 
body  which,  in  some  way,  failed  at  the  critical  mo- 
ment when  Xature  intended  it  should  be  made. 

The  intellectual  value  of  touch,  the  power  to 
give  us  knowledge  of  the  external  world,  is  seldom 
placed  high  enough.  Without  the  sense  of  touch 
the  child  would  not  only  see  things  flat,  but  the 
myriad  forms  that  fill  the  earth  and  sky  would 
never  be  known  to  him.  AW  of  them  would  be 
alike  to  him — neither  rough  nor  smooth,  fine  nor 
coarse,  sharp  nor  blunt,  round  nor  square,  far  nor 
near,  in  high  nor  low  relief.  In  fact,  he  would 
have  no  idea  in  the  concrete  or  in  the  abstract  of 
any  such  qualities.  He  would,  in  manhood,  be 
tumbling  downstairs,  over  chairs,  into  the  fire- 
place, into  the  washtub,  and  everywhere  else,  just 
as  he  does  in  childhood  before  this  sense  has  taught 
him  the  relief  and  relations  of  objects.  Without 
it  he  would  know  neither  sea  nor  land,  wood  nor 
mineral.  If  man  were  deprived  of  the  sense  of 
touch,  every  loom,  every  ship,  every  railway  car, 
every  industry  in  which  man  is  engaged,  would 
instantly  stop.  All  these  are  dependent  upon  its 
high  cultivation  for  their  successful  condiict.  No 
matter  for  what  occupation  a  child  is  intended, 
the  education  of  this  sense  is  of  vital  importance. 
Whether  he  becomes  a  blacksmith  or  a  farmer, 
he  will  discover  not  only  its  everyday  use,  but  its 
value  in  buying  his  food  and  clothing  and  the 
furnkshings  for  his  house.  In  selling  his  wool  or 
buying  sheep,  the  woolgrower  will  find  his  profits 


30  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

largely  in  his  skill  in  detecting  the  value  of  both 
by  feeling.  The  sense  of  touch  discovers  many  de- 
fects which  escape  the  best  of  eyes.  If  he  becomes 
a  weaver,  a  watchmaker,  a  dealer  in  fine  fabrics,  a 
surgeon,  an  oculist,  a  dentist,  a  musician,  an 
artist,  a  bank  cashier,  the  possession  of  delicate 
and  finely  discriminating  touch  is  absolutely  es- 
sential. It  must  ever  be  remembered  that  child- 
hood is  the  only  time  when  the  resources  of  this 
sense  can  be  profitably  developed.  Fair  efficiency 
may  be  secured  by  beginning  later  in  life,  but  rare 
power  is  seldom  attained.  Some  children  inherit 
great  delicacy  of  touch,  but  whatever  Nature  sup- 
plies them  may  be  multiplied  many  fold  by  intelli- 
gent cultivation. 

The  extent  to  which  touch  is  cultivated  in 
some  of  the  schools  for  defectives  is  shown  in  the 
skill  with  which  the  blind  and  deaf  read  raised 
letters  in  English  and  German.  Superintendent 
Hammond  states  that  Helen  Kellar  gets  the 
thought  of  a  friend  by  placing  her  fingers  on  his 
lips  and  her  thumb  on  his  throat  as  he  speaks! 
At  the  World's  Fair  she  visited  the  art  gallery, 
and  after  passing  her  hand  over  the  head  and  face 
of  several  pieces  of  statuary,  said  of  one,  "This 
face  feels  ^ad."  It  was  the  statue  of  Melancholy! 
She  seems  to  have  "  brain  cells  in  her  finger  tips." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE   SENSES    (CONTINUED). — IIEAEING. 

"  Sweet  is  every  sound, 
The  moan  of  doves  in  immemorial  elms, 
The  murmuring  of  innumerable  bees." 

The  sense  of  hearing  is  the  next  in  the  order 
of  Nature's  wise  and  beneficent  provisions  for 
the  child.  All  the  senses  thus  far  described  are 
contact  senses,  but  this  one  gives  us  information 
about  objects  far  and  near.  Without  it  all  exist- 
ence would  be  as  still  as  the  chamber  of  death. 
Man's  knowledge  and  man's  pleasure  would  be  cur- 
tailed beyond  measure,  while  his  progress  in  self- 
development  would  be  exceedingly  slow  and  diffi- 
cult. The  embarrassment  which  deafness  in  one 
ear  produces  is  sad  enough,  but  when  both  are 
bereft  of  the  power  to  hear,  much  of  life  has  gone 
out. 

Authorities  differ  as  to  the  stage  oi  develop- 
ment of  the  ear  at  the  time  of  the  birth  of  the 
child,  though  the  explanation  is  probably  found 
in  the  fact  that  it  varies  in  different  children. 
In  some,  sounds  are  apparently  appreciated  al- 
most immediately,  while  in  others  several  hours 
or  even  days  elapse  before  any  kind  of  sound' 
affects  the  child.     A  friend  tells  me  that  on  the 

31 


32  THE   STUDY  OF  THE   CHILD. 

morning  after  her  babe  was  born  it  was  fright- 
ened almost  into  convulsions  by  the  explosion  of 
a  cannon  firecracker  near  her  window.  Preyer 
says  that  his  little  son  was  surely  deaf  until  the 
fourth  day.  Compayre  reminds  us  that  auditory 
sensibility  wisely  develops  slowly:  "  By  hearing 
too  soon  the  child  would  run  the  risk  of  not  hear- 
ing for  the  rest  of  his  life.  Too  strong  a  vibra- 
tion breaks  the  string  of  a  harp  or  of  a  violin;  so 
sounds  too  intense,  if  felt,  would  bruise  or  injure 
an  organ  so  delicate  and  unexercised.  Nature, 
then,  has  judiciously  protected  the  child  against 
the  shock  of  too  numerous  or  too  violent  sensa- 
tions in  leaving  him  dull  of  hearing  for  a  few 
weeks."  All  this  being  true,  it  again  emphasizes 
the  necessity  for  intelligent,  loving  care  during 
the  very  first  weeks  of  the  child's  life.  An  old- 
time  philosopher  woke  his  children  up  every  morn- 
ing with  sweet  strains  from  his  violin,  lest  a  too 
violent  shock  might  jar  and  disturb  the  harmony 
of  the  transition  from  sleep  to  wakefulness.  What 
hushed  and  soothing  adagios  ought  to  awaken  this 
babe  and  introduce  him  into  the  wonderful  life  he 
now  enters ! 

If  you  are  familiar  with  the  internal  structure 
of  the  ear,  all  of  the  above  is  easily  understood. 
You  can  readily  see  that  the  delicate  tympanic 
membrane  at  the  base  of  the  external  auditory 
canal  could  not  only  be  easily  injured  or  broken 
by  any  sharp  or  loud  noise,  but  by  almost  any  kind 
of  quick  concussion  which  would  force  the  air 
into  the  ear.  It  does  not  take  much  of  a  jar  to 
disarrange  the  finely  balanced  machinery  of  the 


THE  SENSES.— HEARING.  33 

middle  or  of  the  internal  ear,  and  no  care  should 
be  considered  too  great  for  its  protection.  Chil- 
dren's diseases  are  just  as  likely  to  settle  in  a  weak 
spot  as  the  diseases  of  adults,  and  for  this  reason 
any  slight  disorder  in  the  ear  may  soon  become 
serious.  From  various  causes,  these  just  men- 
tioned being  among  them,  authorities  estimate 
that  from  fifty  to  sixty  per  cent  of  the  children 
are  more  or  less  defective  in  hearing.  It  is  also 
claimed  that  by  judicious  treatment  the  percentage 
can  be  reduced  to  fifteen  or  twenty.  The  advan- 
tage of  a  better  acquaintance  with  this  important 
sense  organ  is  thus  further  emphasized. 

The  diseases  in  and  about  children's  ears  often 
become  chronic  very  early  in  life  and  in  many 
families  are  a  source  of  constant  concern.  Ordi- 
nary earache  easily  runs  off  into  stabbing,  stick- 
ing pains,  producing  delirium,  and  leaving  sore- 
ness and  tenderness  in  the  whole  side  of  the  head 
for  days  after.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  conceive  a 
more  excruciating  pain  than  that  which  frequently 
accompanies  discharges  from  the  ear  in  scrofulous 
children  or  in  children  who  are  recovering  from 
scarlatina,  measles,  smallpox,  etc.  Some  children 
seldom  take  a  cold  without  inflammation  of  the 
ear  at  once  following.  Often  the  trouble  is  in  the 
swelling  and  partial  closing  of  the  Eustachian  tube, 
or  in  the  lodgment  of  an  insect  or  of  some  hard 
substance,  or  the  accumulation  of  wax  in  the  outer 
canal,  or  in  some  affection  of  the  mastoid  bone 
just  above  and  behind  the  ear.  But  whatever  or 
wherever  it  is,  it  demands  skillful  and  sympathetic 
treatment.  Usually  danger  gives  notification  iu 
6 


34  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

slight  deafnesSj  in  tingling  sensations,  in  whistling 
noiseSj  and  in  characteristic  buzzing  and  roaring 
sounds  hours  or  even  days  before  severe  pains  force 
attention.  That  which  seems  trifling  at  lirst  may 
become  chronic  and  ineradicable  in  a  fortnight, 
hence  the  need  for  early  attention  to  such  symp- 
toms. Every  mother  and  every  teacher  ought  to 
be  acquainted  with  simple  remedies  to  apply,  but 
when  these  fail  an  aurist  or  a  physician  should  be 
consulted  without  delay. 

In  intellectual  value  the  sense  of  hearing  ranks 
next  to  that  of  sight,  though  touch  might  possibly 
with  reason  contend  for  the  second  place.  It  gives 
us  the  three  great  characteristics  of  sound — pitch, 
intensity,  and  quality  or  timhre — and  also  direc- 
tion and  distance  by  association  and  symbolism. 
Distance  is  approximately  determined  by  the  in- 
tensity or  volume  of  the  sound  as  compared  with 
what  we  happen  to  know  of  it  when  near  by,  com- 
bined with  changes  in  timbre,  which  experience 
has  taught  us  distance  makes.  So  expert  do  travel- 
ers and  hunters  become  in  estimating  distance  by 
sound  that  it  serves  them  almost  as  well  as  the  eye. 
The  temperature  and  humidity  of  the  air,  to- 
gether with  its  degree  of  homogeneousness,  affect 
all  such  estimates.  Direction  is  discovered  by  the 
relative  intensity  of  the  sound  upon  the  two  ears, 
the  short  distance  between  them,  combined  with 
the  difference  produced  by  their  different  rela- 
tions to  the  line  of  the  advancing  sound  waves, 
being  sufficient  to  enable  very  young  children  to 
discriminate  without  much  difficulty.  If  inability 
to  do  this  with  reasonable  certainty  is  discovered 


THE  SENSES.— HEARING.  35 

in  children  of  school  age,  it  is  sufFicient  cause  for 
further  inquiry. 

All  normal  ears  easily  recognize  pitch  in  a 
general  way,  though  ability  to  distinguish  clearly 
the  various  tones  of  the  diatonic  scale  comes  with 
education.  Every  child  that  can  not  readily  dis- 
tinguish high  from  low  tones  is  defective,  and  if 
reasonable  effort  fails  to  develop  this  power,  it  is 
evidence  of  some  organic  defect  that  needs  pro- 
fessional treatment.  The  proper  test  is  simply  to 
produce  sounds,  first  of  marked  difference  in 
pitch,  as  1,  5,  8  of  the  scale ;  then  of  less  difference, 
as  1,  3,  5,  8;  then  the  whole  scale;  then  minor 
divisions — sharps  and  flats.  The  voice  or  any 
musical  instrument  may  be  used.  It  will  some- 
times be  found  that  a  child  can  distinguish  pitch 
in  a  piano  or  an  organ,  and  not  do  it  in  vocal 
tones,  or  in  the  latter  and  not  in  the  former;  and 
yet,  after  a  little  practice,  the  inability  may  dis- 
appear. Where  the  physical  ability  is  small,  the 
intellectual  may  come  in  to  re-enforce  it,  and  per- 
ception thus  be  easily  exercised.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  former  may  be  great  and  the  latter  so 
weak  that  fine  discrimination  is  impossible.  Every 
test  made  should  keep  these  two  elements  con- 
stantly in  mind.  Much  time  is  wasted  in  music 
and  reading  in  attempts  to  force  pupils  to  recog- 
nize pitch  without  having  given  them  any  proper 
training  for  developing  ability  to  do  it.  There  is 
just  the  same  necessity  for  a  well-graded  series  of 
exercises  through  a  course  of  years  for  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  physical  side  of  pitch  perception  as  for 
the  education  of  the  muscles  in  writing  or  draw- 


36  THE   STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

ing.  It  might  as  well  be  understood,  once  for  all, 
that  skill  in  perception  is  attained  only  by  intelli- 
gent exercise  of  the  sense  organs,  and  that  every 
attempt  to  get  along  without  it  must  result  in  utter 
failure.  The  organization  of  apperceptive  organs 
on  the  mental  side  is  impossible  without  corre- 
sponding organization  in  the  sensory  ganglia. 
Differences  in  pitch  can  no  more  be  recognized, 
except  through  corresponding  nerve  power  in  the 
auditor}''  apparatus,  than  can  the  different  tones 
be  produced  without  properly  trained  vocal  cords. 
The  self  can  react  to  interpret  sounds  through  the 
sensation  only,  and  its  multiplicity  of  shades  is  the 
result  of  education. 

To  read  well,  talk  well,  sing  well,  play  on  any 
musical  instrument,  or  to  enjoy  vocal  expression 
or  instrumental  music  of  any  kind  requires  a  nice 
appreciation  of  the  varying  shades  of  pitch. 
Childhood  is  the  best  time  for  its  cultivation, 
though  its  growth  should  be  directed  and  not  un- 
duly hastened.  The  child  has  plenty  of  time. 
The  rarest  powers,  as  well  as  the  rarest  fruit,  prefer 
to  take  their  own  time  for  ripening.  The  range 
of  pitch  perception  should  be  constantly  extend- 
ing, while  the  fine  shades  of  distinction  are  being 
attained. 

Tones  are  also  distinguished  by  their  quality 
or  timbre.  By  quality  is  meant  that  characteris- 
tic which  enaliles  us  to  distinguish  among  tones  of 
the  same  pitch  and  intensity;  to  recognize  their 
soiirce  as  of  a  bird  or  of  an  organ,  or  of  the  human 
voice,  and  the  particular  emotions  they  express. 
Quality  is  due  to  the  nature  and  number  of  over- 


THE  SENSES— HEARING.  37 

tones  accompanying  the  fundamental  or  pitch 
tone.  If  a  violin  string  be  loosely  made,  the  tone, 
whatever  the  pitch,  will  be  more  or  less  diffuse 
and  rough;  if  it  be  compactly  formed,  the  tone 
will  have  corresponding  compactness  and  smooth- 
ness; so  of  a  bell,  solid  or  porous.  This  accounts 
for  the  diiference  in  the  quality  of  the  voice  as  the 
vocal  cords  are  inflamed  or  in  the  natural  condi- 
tion. Ears  that  hear  at  all  usually  appreciate 
emphatic  differences  in  quality.  The  test  is  easily 
made  by  discovering  whether  a  child  can  distin- 
guish among  voices  of  different  persons,  dift'erent 
forms  of  the  same  voice,  vocal  utterances  of  dif- 
ferent animals,  or  the  tones  of  dift'erent  musical 
instruments,  noises,  etc.  Surprising  results  will 
often  show  themselves  in  these  tests.  Where  in- 
ability to  make  the  general  discriminations  exists, 
the  causes  may  be  any  of  those  already  stated,  and 
similar  treatment  should  be  used.  Where  children 
are  to  be  handled  in  classes,  those  more  ready  in 
noting  quality  can  afford  to  wait  a  little  until  the 
others  approximate  them  in  skill,  though  this  sug- 
gestion should  not  be  followed  too  rigidly. 

Intensity,  or  volume,  is  the  force  or  momentum 
of  a  sound  and  is  dependent  upon  the  swing  or  am- 
plitude of  the  waves  producing  it.  Ears  that  read- 
ily appreciate  the  other  characteristics  mentioned 
may  still  be  unable  to  distinguish  this  one,  at  least 
with  any  degree  of  fineness.  "  //  "  and  "  pp  " 
mean  about  the  same  to  them.  Use  same  pitch,  or 
same  quality,  with  similar  means,  as  suggested  in 
preceding  paragraphs,  increasing  and  decreasing 
intensity,  to  discover  effect  upon  the  child.     For, 


38  THE   STUDY  OP   THE  CHILD. 

of  course,  effect  on  the  child  is  the  measure  of  the 
child's  ability.  Often  sounds  of  great  volume  will 
produce  intense  pain.  A  child  of  mine  could  not 
be  persuaded  to  stay  near  a  brass  band  while  it  was 
playing  because  it  gave  her  a  severe  earache.  The 
ringing  of  a  church  bell  drove  a  neighbor's  child 
almost  into  convulsions.  The  curfew  whistle  is 
blowing  as  I  write,  and  my  dog  falls  prostrate  as 
usual  and  begins  a  pitiful  whine.  All  these  and 
scores  of  other  facts  of  a  kindred  nature  will  be 
discovered  in  testing  hearing.  It  would  be  a  feel- 
ingless  and  resourceless  teacher  or  parent,  indeed, 
who  could  not  easily  find  ways  of  protecting  and 
helpiug  these  sensitive  children.^  A  moment's 
thought  would  reverse  the  order  now  followed  in 
many  families. 

The  aesthetic  value  of  the  sense  of  hearing  is 
too  well  known  to  need  any  elaboration.  Tiie  art 
as  well  as  the  science  of  music  is  dependent  en- 
tirely upon  the  ability  of  the  ear  to  receive  and 
transmit  sounds  of  infinite  variety  in  pitch  and 
quality  and  intensity.  As  the  rarest  and  noblest 
aspirations  of  the  soul  find  expression  in  song, 
they  are  also  awakened  by  song  as  it  is  received 
and  interpreted  by  the  refined  sense  of  hearing. 
Among  the  fine  arts,  music  is  the  first  to  minister 
to  the  child.  The  rhythm  of  the  nurse's  gentle 
lullaby  quiets  it  almost  the  first  hour  after  birth, 
and  the  sweet  melodies  of  its  early  years  soothe  a 
thousand  sorrows  and  transport  it  from  many  a 
turbulent  passion  to  peaceful  sleep — 

Where  dreams  are  songs, 
And  trundle-beds  are  fairies'  chariots. 


THE  SENSES.— HEARING.  39 

As  music  serves  to  express  the  emotions  of 
youth  and  manhood,  it  rises  in  dignity  and  state- 
liness,  finding  its  highest  mission  in  voicing  the 
longings  of  the  human  soul  for  the  Infinite.  By 
virtue  of  this  intimate  relationship  to  the  finer 
sentiments,  its  ethical  value  can  hardly  be  over- 
estimated. A  man  with  a  cultivated  ear  has  poor 
excuse  for  being  immoral. 

The  value  of  this  sense  in  a  practical  way  is 
easily  enough  seen,  but  teachers  and  parents  are 
often  slow  in  understanding  what  its  loss  means  to 
a  child  who  is  suffering  from  some  affection  which 
may  injure  or  destroy  it  permanently.  This  chap- 
ter has  already  urged  immediate  attention  to  such 
cases,  and  they  are  mentioned  again,  with  the  hope 
that  some  poor  child  may  be  profited  thereby. 

Tivo  seemingly  parallel  straight  lines  maij  he  hut 
an  inch  apart  at  their  origin  and  yet  he  ten  feet  apart 
at  the  end  of  a  mile.  Some  children  are  thirty  years 
in  groicing  deaf,  some  twenty,  some  ten,  some  five, 
some  one! 

There  are  too  many  partially  deaf  people  in 
every  community.  Every  such  one  is  badly  handi- 
capped in  his  business  and  social  relations.  How 
many  men  lose  good  positions  because  of  defective 
hearing!  How  many  sad  and  fatal  accidents  are 
due  to  the  same  cause!  The  new  education  can 
do  no  better  service  to  the  oncoming  generations 
than  to  preserve  and  perfect  this  sense  in  the  chil- 
dren. 

The  clear  understanding  of  language  is  de- 
pendent upon  ability  to  hear  well.  Often  the 
deepest  meaning  and  the  finest  shades  of  thought 


40  THE  STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

are  lost  because  an  accent,  a  subvocal,  or  a  little 
slur  of  the  voice  escapes  notice.  A  child  is  thought 
dull  or  stupid  who  could  not  be  otherwise,  for  he 
seldom  hears  anything  that  is  said  at  home  or  in 
the  schoolroom.  I  visited  a  classroom  not  long 
since,  and  found  that  pupils  in  the  rear  were  cran- 
ing their  necks  to  see  the  diagrams  on  the  board 
and  hear  the  explanations  given.  Some  soon  gave 
up  in  despair  and  settled  down  in  a  listless  way  to 
await  the  end  of  the  recitation.  Inquiry  developed 
the  fact  that  nearly  one  third  of  them  heard  little 
of  any  recitation.  Under  such  conditions  what 
could  be  expected  of  them?  A  superintendent  in 
a  small  city  reports  that  he  found  forty  pupils  in 
his  schools  who  were  occupying  rear  forms  and 
who  could  hear  little  said  by  teacher  or  pupils  at 
the  front. 

Various  general  tests  have  been  suggested,  the 
watch  test  being  frequently  named,  but  the  human 
voice  is  the  best  for  the  home  and  the  classroom. 
It  is  that  which  it  is  important  the  children  should 
hear.  Let  it  be  of  the  usual  tone,  and  let  chil- 
dren who  hear  it  with  difficulty  be  given  seats  near 
the  teacher,  the  others  ranging  back  in  the  order 
of  ability  to  hear.  Sight  and  the  sense  of  tempera- 
ture must  also  control  in  the  assignment  of  seats, 
as  suggested  in  discussing  them.  In  the  home, 
the  place  at  the  fireside  and  at  the  table,  where 
most  of  the  talk  can  easily  be  heard,  should  always 
be  given  to  the  child  whose  hearing  is  less  acute 
than  that  of  the  others.  If  proper  care  is  observed, 
such  cases  rapidly  improve  with  opportunity  and 
exercise,  and  the  defect  usually  entirely  disappears. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE    SENSES    (CONTINUED). — SIGHT. 

We  are  now  to  study  the  king  of  all  the  senses 
— ^the  sense  of  sight.  It,  like  sound,  is  not  a  con- 
tact sense.  Rays  of  light  are  transmitted  through 
space  by  an  intangible  medium  called  ether.  So 
faithfully  does  it  do  its  duty  that  the  eye  is  thus 
permitted  to  see  objects  lying  hundreds  of  millions 
of  miles  away,  a  distance  so  great  that  no  one  can 
form  any  adequate  conception  of  it.  While  the 
telephone  transmits  the  human  voice  so  that  it  can 
be  heard  a  thousand  miles  away,  the  telescope  ex- 
tends the  power  of  the  eye  so  that  a  vast  multitude 
of  heavenly  bodies  are  brought  to  view  which 
otherwise  would  not  have  been  known  to  exist. 
The  wonderful  resources  of  this  sense  and  its  vital 
importance  in  every  moment  of  our  waking  hours 
give  it  the  high  place  above  assigned. 

In  structure  its  mechanism  is  not  so  difficult  to 
understand  as  that  of  the  ear,  though  the  rods 
and  cones  underneath  the  retina  perplex  the  stu- 
dent somewhat.  At  birth  the  eyes  of  some  chil- 
dren are  more  fully  developed  than  those  of  oth- 
ers, though  it  is  probable  that  none  of  them  at  first 
have  more  than  the  faintest  sensation  of  light. 
In  a  few  days  they  begin  to  notice  any  bright  light, 

41 


<L, 


42  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

as  that  of  a  lamp,  but  the  most  painstaking  inves- 
tigators incline  to  the  belief  that  there  is  very  little 
discrimination  among  objects  for  a  fortnight,  and 
then  only  among  those  of  bright  colors. 

Compayre  reminds  us  that  the  child  at  first 
sees  only  in  front  of  him  and  that  he  does  not  see 
objects  to  the  right  or  left.  This  can  be  shown 
easily  by  shifting  a  light  or  a  bright  colored  ob- 
ject either  way  in  front  of  him.  He  soon  loses  it 
and  gazes  vacantly  into  space.  The  same  authority 
also  cites  the  fact  that  all  young  children  are  my- 
opic, seeing  objects  only  at  short  range.  The  first 
is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  child  has  not  yet  learned 
the  art  of  moving  its  eyes  so  as  to  change  the 
field  of  vision;  the  second,  to  the  fact  that  the  eye 
is  not  yet  completely  developed  and  that  the  power 
of  focal  adjustment  has  not  yet  been  attained. 
Experiments  of  this  nature  during  the  first  four 
or  five  months  of  a  child's  life  will  reveal  some 
very  interesting  things  about  the  growth  of  sight 
perception,  among  them  the  surprising  fact  that 
nearly  all  children  are  cross-eyed  at  birth  and  some 
of  them  for  many  months  after.  The  co-ordina- 
tion of  the  movements  of  the  muscles  controlling 
the  eyeballs  is  necessary  before  rapid  progress  can 
be  made  in  distinguishing  objects  by  sight;  this  is 
often  not  fully  attained  before  the  age  of  four  or 
five. 

The  intellectual  value  of  this  sense  needs  no 
particular  discussion  here.  So  much  of  our  knowl- 
edge comes  through  it  that  the  value  of  the  other 
senses  is  often  overlooked.  If  one  sees  a  thing, 
he  is  supposed  to  know  all  about  it.     Seeing  has 


THE  SENSES.— SIGHT.  43 

become  the  synonym  for  understanding,  and  when 
we  have  explained  a  matter  to  any  one  we  quickly 
ask,  "Do  you  see  it?"  The  direct  knowledge 
given  us  by  the  eye  is  of  hue,  tint,  and  intensity. 
By  hue  is  meant  the  more  or  less  positively  defined 
colors;  by  tint,  the  varying  shades  due  simply  to 
the  small  quantity  of  a  color  or  hue  showing  itself 
in  a  mixture  or  background  of  white  or  some  lead- 
ing color;  by  intensity,  the  amount  of  light  re- 
ceived from  an  object  by  the  eye.  The  first  is  de- 
pendent upon  the  relative  rapidity  of  the  wave 
movements,  red  being  the  lowest  and  violet  the 
highest;  the  second  and  third  are  already  suffi- 
ciently explained.  By  the  infinite  number  of  com- 
binations of  these  three,  the  perception  of  the  ex- 
ternal world  is  made  so  definite  that  no  two  human 
beings  out  of  the  billion  and  a  half  now  living 
appear  exactly  alike  to  the  cultivated  eye;  no  two 
of  the  endless  quintillions  of  leaves  that  cover  the 
earth  are  found  to  agree  in  every  detail.  Every- 
where is  variety;  the  bright  and  the  somber,  the 
red  and  the  gold,  the  light  and  the  dark,  the  green 
and  the  yellow,  the  blue  and  the  crimson,  the  glow 
of  the  evening  sunset,  the  dancing  of  the  silver- 
tipped  waves,  the  wild  sprangles  of  the  restless 
lightning,  are  ever  revealing  through  the  eye  the 
nature  and  the  resources  of  the  universe  of  matter 
and  of  force. 

The  purely  visual  function  of  the  eye  is  greatly 
multiplied  and  extended  by  its  union  with  the 
muscular  movements  of  the  body,  the  neck,  and 
the  eyeballs,  as  already  intimated.  By  the  aid  of 
the   first   two    the   whole    range    of    the    horizon, 


44  THE  STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

around  and  above,  can  be  swept  almost  in  an 
instant,  and  objects  distinguished  and  located  with 
surprising  accuracy.  At  first  consciously,  then 
more  or  less  unconsciously,  the  muscular  sensations 
serve  as  a  measure  of  the  angles  passed  over  in 
the  movement  and  the  visual  sensation  is  the  only 
one  prominent  in  the  perception.  But  when  the 
eyeballs  of  children  of  school  age  or  of  adults  are 
observed,  they  will  be  seen  to  be  as  restless  as 
globules  of  mercury,  turning  hither  and  thither 
and  everywhere  on  the  slightest  occasion.  Few  of 
these  movements  are  purposeless.  They  are  made 
so  as  to  take  in  the  whole  of  an  object  and  its 
surroundings;  they  are  repeated  and  reversed 
again  and  again,  that  each  detail  of  color  and  tint 
and  shade  and  form  and  relation  may  be  verified. 
These  muscular  sensations  also  merge  in  conscious- 
ness with  the  purely  visual,  and  the  knowledge  de- 
rived is  usually  attributed  to  the  latter.  Then 
there  are  two  sets  of  delicate  ciliary  muscles  inside 
the  eyeball  itself;  one  adjusts  the  size  of  the  pupil 
so  that  the  proper  amount  of  light  may  be  ad- 
mitted to  the  internal  eye,  the  other  adjusts  the 
lenses  of  the  eye  in  looking  at  objects  at  vary- 
ing distances,  so  as  to  focus  the  rays  coming  from 
them  upon  the  retina.  Though  the  movements 
of  these  internal  muscles  are  so  slight,  they  evi- 
dently enter  into  conscious  sensation  fully  enough 
to  assist  eye-perception  in  determining  the  shape, 
distance,  and  size  of  objects. 

The  dependence  of  sight  upon  touch  has  al- 
ready been  mentioned.  At  first  all  objects  seem 
flat  to  the  child,  and  right  up  against  him,  as  it 


THE  SENSES.— SIGHT.  45 

were.  Exercising  a  natural  impulse  to  touch  them, 
he  puts  out  his  hand  and  finds  that  they  are  a  little 
distance  from  him,  or  even  beyond  his  reach. 
Through  a  long  course  of  experimenting,  he  learns 
to  measure  in  a  rough  way  the  distance  to  any  ob- 
ject by  the  amount  of  muscular  effort  necessary 
to  reach  it.  In  like  manner  also  he  gets  an  idea, 
of  its  form  and  size,  including  its  depth  as  well 
as  its  height  and  breadth.  The  eye  follows  all 
these  movements,  and  the  associated  visual  and 
muscular  sensations  of  the  eye  proper  become  so 
assimilated  with  them  that  on  their  recurrence, 
without  touch,  they  serve  to  symbolize  the  touch 
sensations,  and  thus  give  knowledge  which  touch 
alone  had  been  supplying.  So  by  this  wonderful 
principle  of  symbolism  the  eye  gradually  usurps 
this  function  of  touch,  and  tells  us  whether  objects 
are  rough  or  smooth,  liquid  or  solid,  fibrous  or 
crystalline,  round  or  elliptical,  oblong  or  square, 
flat  or  in  relief,  sharp  or  dull,  large  or  small,  fixed 
or  moving,  far  or  near;  and  all  of  this  by  the  mi- 
nute differences  seen  in  the  shades  and  colors  of 
the  various  parts  of  a  body  or  of  different  bodies. 
Thus  it  not  only  enhances  the  value  of  touch,  but 
makes  itself  almost  a  universal  sense,  for  this  prin- 
ciple of  symbolism  enables  it  to  act  in  place  of 
other  senses  also,  as  explained  in  Chapter  II. 

The  gesthetic  value  of  the  senses  also  reaches 
its  climax  in  the  sense  of  sight.  Bright  colors 
awaken  interest  and  pleasure  in  a  very  young 
child.  Their  combinations  in  almost  any  fantastic 
way  gratify  and  delight  him.  "With  the  develop- 
ment of  his  intellectual  nature  the  feeling  of  har- 


46  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

mony  is  aroused  only  as  certain  colors  are  associ- 
ated, and,  later,  aesthetic  taste  finds  satisfaction 
in  tints  and  colors  of  the  rarer  hue. 

Even  in  the  most  cultivated  minds  Nature  and 
art  never  cease  to  kindle  the  emotion  of  beauty 
through  color  and  shade  alone.  But  the  percep- 
jtion  of  form,  as  touch  drops  out,  also  awakens  the 
emotion  of  the  beautiful.  Order,  proportion,  sym- 
metry, and  grace  in  form  appeal  to  the  finer  and 
less  sensuous  elements  of  our  nature  more  easily 
than  does  color.  Form  itself  serves  to  purify  and 
spiritualize  the  aesthetic  feelings.  Certain  classec 
of  movements,  particularly  those  of  animals,  pos- 
sibly due  to  the  concrete  forms  they  suggest,  beget 
similar  emotions.  When  color  and  form  and  move- 
ment are  harmoniously  combined,  the  most  pleas- 
urable effects  are  produced. 

A  liberal  education  and  a  successful  life  are 
so  clearly  dependent  upon  the  perfection  and  skill 
in  the  use  of  the  eyes  that  their  care  and  training 
ought  to  constitute  a  large  part  of  the  responsibil- 
ity of  every  parent  and  teacher.  It  is  a  long  dis- 
tance from  that  vacant,  expressionless  look  of  the 
newborn  babe  to  that  eye  so  full  of  meaning  and 
understanding  in  the  richly  endowed  man,  and 
some  intelligent  hand  must  help  to  its  attain- 
ment. The  aid  to  give  children  with  normal  eyes 
is  suggested  in  the  next  chapter. 

In  certain  families  almost  every  child  is  trou- 
bled with  some  affection  of  the  eye;  in  others, 
weak  or  diseased  eyes  are  unknown.  Heredity 
shows  its  trail  in  no  other  sense  more  clearly. 
Many  of  these  diseases  are  of  the  eyelids,  not  af- 


THE  SENSES.— SIGHT.  47 

fecting  the  eyeball  at  all,  and  are  merely  tem- 
porary; others,  though  external,  are  very  serious 
and  gradually  extend  to  the  eyeball,  even  to  the 
optic  nerve.  The  surface  of  the  eyeball  is  subject 
to  diseases  of  a  similar  nature,  sometimes  originat- 
ing there  and  extending  to  the  eyelids.  All  such 
disorders  should  be  treated  by  physicians  or  by 
experienced  nurses.  The  orders  they  give  should 
be  strictly  followed,  even  though  "  there  is  no 
danger."  Many  eyes  have  been  ruined  by  the 
carelessness  or  indilference  of  those  whose  love  and 
interest  ought  to  have  taught  them  better. 

These  disorders  are  easily  seen,  but  those  that 
directly  affect  the  sense  of  sight  are  usually  dis- 
coverable only  by  closer  examination.  The  ex- 
periments with  the  lighted  candle  or  lamp  for  dis- 
covering the  first  sight  sensations,  range  of  field 
to  right  and  left,  distance  at  which  objects  are  evi- 
dently lost  to  view,  constitute  a  series  which  should 
be  repeated  at  first  from  day  to  day,  and  then 
from  week  to  week  until  such  time  as  there  seems 
to  be  but  little  change.  The  progress,  rapid  or 
slow,  which  the  child  makes  in  extending  his 
range  of  vision  by  association  with  muscular  move- 
ments and  with  touch  should  be  most  carefully 
noted.  At  times  he  will  be  found  to  have  made 
great  progress,  and  too  much  care  can  not  be  taken 
to  discover  the  cause.  Bright  objects,  as  balls  of 
colored  yarn,  may  early  be  substituted  for  the 
lighted  candle,  afterward  being  varied  with  those 
of  softer  colors.  No  attempt  shoiild  he  made  to 
stimulate  the  eye  to  iindue  activity  nor  to  test  its 
endurance  at  any  time,  particularly  with  little  chil- 


48  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

dren.  The  eyes  of  children  are  often  injured 
greatly  by  gazing  too  long  at  a  bright  light.  I 
remember,  when  past  thirty,  experimenting  with 
an  electric  light  to  discover  its  power,  and,  though 
I  was  soon  able  to  stare  it  out  of  countenance,  I 
found,  as  the  cars  started  off,  that  I  was  totally 
blind.  Fortunately,  the  paralysis  was  temporary, 
but  how  much  the  contest  has  affected  my  sight 
since  has  always  been  a  problem.  A  student  of 
mine  was  blind  for  several  days  and  suffered  with 
weak  eyes  for  years  as  a  result  of  walking  a  mile 
at  midday  with  the  reflections  of  the  bright  sun- 
light from  the  snow  crystals  pouring  into  her  face 
at  every  step.  Reading  from  a  brightly  illuminated 
page  has  a  similar  effect.  These  experiences  are 
so  common  and  so  well  known  that  any  one  who 
endangers  a  child's  eyes  in  such  a  way  is  little 
short  of  a  criminal. 

Should  these  experiments  with  the  babe  reveal 
any  peculiarity  at  any  time,  there  ought  to  be  no 
alarm.  It  sometimes  happens  that  a  child  ap- 
pears to  be  making  considerable  progress  for  sev- 
eral days  and  then  apparently  loses  all  power 
gained.  The  cause  may  be  interest  in  something 
else,  or  weariness,  or  a  slight  temporary  weakness 
in  the  eyes.  If  the  child  is  later  in  observing  the 
light  than  other  children,  it  may  be  the  better 
for  him,  as  earlier  appreciation  might  do  him 
harm.  If,  however,  he  pays  no  attention  to  it 
when  ten  days  old,  a  physician's  advice  should  be 
promptly  sought,  possibly  even  before  that  time 
if  suspicions  are  aroused.  Should  the  retrogres- 
sion above  mentioned  continue  for  a  few  days,  or 


THE  SENSES.— SIGHT.  49 

should  no  progress  be  making,  the  same  ever-safe 
counselor  should  be  called  in. 

Not  only  should  objects  of  different  colors  be 
used,  but  also  of  different  sizes  and  forms,  espe- 
cially as  the  child  is  running  around  and  getting 
acquainted  with  the  outside  world.  Though,  as 
stated,  all  small  children  are  short-sighted  to  some 
extent,  ability  to  adjust  the  eye  to  objects  within 
reasonable  range  should  be  clearly  showing  itself 
as  the  child  enters  school.  If  parents  do  their 
duty,  they  will  inform  the  teacher  of  any  defects 
in  vision.  By  noting  the  ease  or  difficulty  with 
which  the  children  read  writing  on  the  blackboard 
or  the  words  in  their  books,  teachers  will  at  once 
discover  reasons  for  further  tests.  The  short- 
sighted children  should  be  placed  where  they  can 
see  the  work  on  the  board,  and  they  should  be 
permitted  to  keep  their  eyes  near  the  paper  as 
they  read  or  copy  or  figure.  Weak  eyes  should  not 
be  confused  with  myopic  eyes,  for  the  former  see 
with  difficulty  at  any  distance,  while  the  latter 
see  easily  within  their  own  range.  The  former 
need  more  light;  the  latter,  a  proper  focus,  which 
proper  distance  only  can  give,  though  suitable 
glasses  will  aid  both.  Among  older  children,  long- 
sighted, hyperopic,  eyes  will  occasionally  be  dis- 
covered. In  serious  cases  of  myopia  or  hyperopia, 
expert  oculists  should  be  consulted  and  proper 
glasses  secured.  The  reason  for  consulting  a  spe- 
cialist is  that  the  child  should  not  only  have 
glasses  that  will  enable  him  to  see  well,  but  that 
will  also  serve  to  gradually  correct  his  defect. 
Where  the  cases  are  not  very  serious,  the  child 


50  THE  STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

should  be  seated  in  the  schooh'oom  as  siiggested, 
and  permitted  to  hold  his  book  or  paper  at  the 
distance  best  adapted  to  his  eyes.  He  should, 
however,  be  encouraged  in  a  friendly  way  to  move 
his  book  a  little  nearer  the  normal  distance  ffom 
time  to  time,  in  order  to  stimulate  readjustment 
to  the  new  focus.  There  should  be  no  haste  about 
this,  for  if  the  child  has  made  appreciable  ]»og- 
ress  in  correcting  defects  in  four  or  five  yews  it 
is  cause  for  congratulation.  It  is  probablefthat 
the  increase  in  skill  in  apprehending  words  and 
objects  will  also  relieve  the  embarrassment  in  my- 
opic and  hyperopic  children,  as  they  soon  learn 
to  get  along  without  such  clear  eye  pictures  as 
their  more  fortunate  neighbors  are  accustomed  to 
have. 

The  most  difficult  cases  to  manage  are  those 
known  as  astigmatic,  and  those  in  which  the  foci 
of  the  two  eyes  are  at  unequal  distances,  thus  con- 
fusing the  image,  particularly  at  certain  ranges. 
There  seems  to  be  no  remedy  for  these  defects  save 
in  glasses  properly  fitted.  The  former  is  quite  com- 
mon, and  is  a  prolific  source  of  headache.  Thou- 
sands of  cases  of  chronic  headache  have  been 
promptly  cured  by  the  use  of  glasses.  Though  the 
astigmatism  may  be  very  slight,  the  constant  strain 
on  the  fine  nerves  and  muscles  of  the  internal  eye 
produces  most  acute  pain  in  the  head.  This  same 
effort  in  myopic  and  hyperopic  eases  produces  the 
same  result.  A  ministerial  friend  tells  me  that  a 
teacher  forced  his  son,  who  was  afflicted  with  my- 
opia, to  hold  his  book  at  the  "  regulation  dis- 
tance "  and  in  the  regulation  position  as  he  read 


THE  SENSES.— SIGHT.  51 

or  studied,  and  that  the  headache  resulting  threw 
him  into  sucli  nervous  disorders  that  at  least  once 
a  fortnight  he  was  obliged  to  keep  him  out  of 
school  for  three  or  four  days.  A  lady  friend  tells 
me  that  her  little  daughter  had  been  coming  home 
every  day  for  months  with  a  bad  headache,  and 
that  she  was  losing  all  interest  in  school,  when 
the  writer  visited  the  city  and  urged  the  teachers 
to  test  the  sight  and  hearing  of  their  pupils.  This 
girl  was  found  defective  in  eyesight  and  given  a 
front  seat.  In  two  weeks  her  headache  was  all 
gone,  and  her  interest  in  school  had  returned.  A 
multitude  of  similar  cases  might  be  given,  but 
these  must  suffice.  If  this  paragraph  awakens  its 
readers  to  a  fuller  understanding  of  the  intimate 
connection  between  overstrained  eyes  and  head- 
ache among  children  and  adults,  somebody  will 
be  remembered  most  kindly  by  them. 

For  a  little  more  definite  test  of  the  defects 
just  named,  Snellin's  cards,  bought  of  jewelers 
and  dealers  in  spectacles  nearly  everywhere  for  ten 
cents,  will  be  found  serviceable. 

The  fact  has  already  been  mentioned  that  the 
eyes  of  little  children  are  often  crossed  more  or 
less,  and  that  the  power  to  move  both  together 
may  develop  but  slowly.  It  is  important  that 
nothing  be  done  which  will  tend  to  cause  a  child 
to  try  to  look  in  two  directions  at  the  same  time. 
Slowly  moving  an  object  not  too  small,  in  various 
directions  at  some  distance  before  him,  carefully 
excluding  anything  from  the  right  or  left  which 
might  attract  him,  will  encourage  the  two  eyes  to 
move  together.     This  repeated  from  day  to  day 


52  THE  STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

will  assist  the  child  in  co-ordinating  the  muscles 
and  attaining  the  power  to  move  tliem  together. 
Very  small  objects  should  not  be  used,  neither 
should  anything  be  placed  so  near  as  to  force  the 
child  to  try  to  look  over  his  nose.  The  disposi- 
tion to  show  a  child  off  by  having  him  look  cross- 
eyed is  vicious  and  criminal. 

Cataract  is  a  well-known  disease  of  the  eye, 
but  its  early  symptoms  often  escape  notice,  and 
sight  is  gone  before  any  attempt  is  made  to  pre- 
serve it.  At  the  first  suggestion  of  a  discoloration 
of  the  pupil,  medical  aid  should  be  sought. 

Children  are  continually  getting  something  in 
their  eyes — a  particle  of  dust,  a  cinder,  a  thorn — 
and  everybody  ought  to  know  how  to  remove  it. 
Put  a  toothpick  above  the  eyelid  and  quickly  re- 
verse the  lid  over  it,  thus  usually  exposing  the  for- 
eign substance.  With  a  silk  handkerchief  gently 
remove  the  intruder.  If  the  substance  be  imbed- 
ded in  the  eyeball,  great  care  must  be  exercised  lest 
permanent  injury  result  to  it.  Only  an  expert 
should  be  permitted  to  handle  this  delicate  organ 
if  the  case  be  serious. 

In  the  selection  of  text-books  and  reading 
matter  generally  for  children,  fine  print  and 
masses  of  letters  and  figures  should  be  avoided. 
Eyes  may  be  ruined  in  a  fortnight  by  too  close 
application  to  solid  matter  of  this  kind.  In  visit- 
ing a  class  recently,  I  found  twenty  boys,  four- 
teen to  seventeen  years  of  age,  complaining  about 
weak  eyes.  Many  of  them  had  never  thought  of 
weak  eyes  before  entering  the  class,  but  a  month 
of  study  over  fine  print  and  compact  columns  had 


THE  SENSES. -SIGHT.  53 

caused  them  incalculable  distress.  Good,  clear 
type,  well  leaded,  on  white  paper  will  prevent  such 
trouble.  Some  blackboards  are  not  lit  for  use. 
Half  of  the  pupils  do  not  write  their  work  on  the 
board  so  that  it  can  be  seen  without  strain.  The 
light  in  many  schoolrooms  is  very  poor;  often  too 
much,  often  not  enough;  often  from  the  right 
when  it  ouuht  to  be  from  the  left. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

THE    SENSES    (CONTINUED). GENEKAL   FUNCTIONS. 

We  have  now  become  somewhat  acquainted 
with  each  of  the  senses,  its  specific  nature,  its  par- 
ticular office  or  function,  its  value  in  an  intellec- 
tual, aesthetic,  and  practical  way,  the  diseases  to 
which  it  is  subject,  the  tests  which  may  be  ap- 
plied in  discovering  defects,  and  some  of  the  meth- 
ods to  be  used  in  correcting  them;  we  have  also 
discovered  the  importance  of  all  this  informa- 
tion in  the  education  of  the  child.  It  remains  for 
us  to  inquire  into  the  general  functions  of  the 
senses,  and  to  find  their  further  relation  to  his 
physical  and  mental  life. 

Whatever  may  be  oiir  theories  regarding  tho- 
exact  nature  of  the  mental  power  with  which  the 
child  is  endowed  at  birth,  all  agree  that  without 
some  means  of  receiving  communication  from  the 
material  world  outside  the  mind  must  lie  dor- 
mant, no  development  resulting.  The  senses  fur- 
nish this  means  of  communication.  Though  we 
are  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  the  connection  be- 
tween the  nerve  cells  of  the  brain  and  the  mind, 
of  the  way  in  which  certain  kinds  of  nerve  excita- 
tion are  unerringly  given  practically  the'^-^ame 
meaning  by  one  and  all  minds,  we  are  not  withdut 
54 


THE  SENSES.— GENERAL  FUNCTIONS.       55 

some  definite  knowledge  of  the  way  in  which 
these  external  objects  awaken  brain  activity.  Each 
nerve  filament  has  direct  commiuiication  with  the 
brain,  so  that  we  may  regard  the  nervous  organ- 
ism as  a  great  telegraphic  or  tcleijlionic  system, 
with  the  brain  as  the  receiving  or  central  station. 
If  a  nerve  filament  capable  of  appreciating  heat 
motion  is  excited  by  a  warm  body  in  contact,  by 
concussion,  by  friction,  or  by  chemical  action,  the 
excitation  is  carried  on  its  own  nerve  line  to  the 
brain,  and  there  entering  consciousness  is  inter- 
preted as  heat.  In  no  other  way  can  a  child  get 
knowledge  of  temperature.  If  a  terminal  filament 
capable  of  appreciating  pressure  be  excited  by 
some  body  coming  against  it,  that  peculiar  kind 
of  nerve  excitement  is  also  carried  to  the  brain  by 
its  connecting  line.  In  that  way  only  can  a  child 
get  knowledge  of  the  presence  of  an  external  body 
and  of  the  nature  of  its  surface.  In  a  similar  way 
stimuli  act,  each  in  its  own  way,  upon  the  various 
sensory  nerve  filaments,  producing  specific  kinds 
of  nerve  excitation,  thus  making  the  child  ac- 
quainted with  the  characteristics  of  the  world  of 
external  objects.  The  fidelity  with  which  this 
transmission  is  made  determines,  in  great  part, 
the  extent  and  accuracy  of  the  child's  knowledge. 
If  this  delicate  machinery  is  not  in  perfect  order, 
not  working  with  precision,  confusion  naturally 
results. 

As  you  are  observing  the  children,  you  will'*'' 
see  how  rapidly  they  grow  in  power  to   distin-f 
guish  objects  and  to  note  their  qualities.     The 
more  frequently  a  sense  is  excited  within  certain 


56  THE   STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

bounds,  and  with  slightly  varying  stimuli,  the 
more  sensitive  it  becomes  and  the  finer  the  dis- 
tinctions it  presents  to  the  mind.  The  physical 
senses  as  the  media  of  communication  between 
the  mind  and  the  external  world  serve  their  full 
l^urpose  only  as  they  are  gaining  in  ability  to 
appropriate  and  transmit  an  increasing  number  of 
shades  of  differences  in  color,  in  tone,  in  form,  in 
intensity.  The  mind  can  proceed  no  faster  in 
gaining  power  to  make  such  discrimination  than 
the  senses,  hence  the  need  for  the  intelligent  se- 
lection of  means  and  methods  that  their  progress 
may  be  as  rapid  and  as  economical  as  possible; 
hence  also  the  reminder  that  every  educational 
scheme  which  is  not  based  upon  sense-perception 
must  fail. 

At  that  point  where  the  self  and  the  not-self 
meet, the  mind  must  respond,  or  nothing  but  brain 
activity  results.  The  clock  may  strike  a  thousand 
times,  objects  may  pass  many  times  back  and  forth 
before  the  eyes,  the  fragrance  of  flowers  fill  every 
corner  of  the  room,  but  unless  the  mind  gives 
special  attention  no  sensations  proper  are  aroused, 
and  one  sits  oblivious  to  it  all.  These  excitations 
do  enter  in  a  slight  Avay  into  consciousness,  how- 
ever, making  up  a  sort  of  substratum — a  sensation 
continuum,  as  Dr.  DeA\'ey  and  others  call  it — 
which  affects  more  or  less  the  general  tone  of  the 
self,  no  matter  in  what  it  happens  to  be  absorbed 
at  the  time.  Any  one  of  them  may  be  quickly 
exalted  into  consciousness  and  made  the  special 
object  of  attention,  while  the  others  are  left  still 
involved  in  the  subconscious  mass.     This  may  be 


THE  SENSES.— GENERAL   FUNCTIONS.       57 

illustrated  at  any  time  by  suddenly  stopping  what- 
ever you  may  be  doing  and  noting,  one  after  an- 
other, the  many  things  which  you  were  really  see- 
ing and  hearing  and  feeling  and  even  tasting  and 
smelling,  and  yet  of  which  you  were  not  at  all 
conscious.  This  experiment  will  enable  you  to  see 
clearly  that  unless  the  mind  specifically  differenti- 
ates a  sensation  from  its  companions  and  interprets 
it,  gives  it  meaning,  and  associates  it  with  the  ob- 
ject producing  it,  there  can  be  no  knowledge 
gained.  The  sensation  itself  is  not  knowledge,  but 
without  it  there  could  be  no  knowledge.  It  is 
pure  feeling,  and  becomes  knowledge  only  as  it  is 
given  meaning.  Active  as  a  physical  force  speed- 
ing its  way  to  the  brain,  it  can  do  nothing  now  but 
passively  wait  at  the  portal  for  the  mind  to  take 
hold  of  it  and  give  it  meaning.  Its  various  char- 
acteristics, due  to  its  sources,  soon  become  familiar 
to  the  mind,  and  sensation  and  object  seem  merged 
in  one. 

Sensations  occupy  a  more  prominent  part  in 
the  life  of  the  child  than  of  the  adult,  for  they  are 
practically  his  only  mental  food.  What  a  man 
would  discover  about  an  object  by  reflection  and 
reason,  the  child  finds  out  only  through  the  senses. 
He  must  pull  it,  bite  it,  stamp  on  it,  look  down  its 
mouth,  smell  it,  scratch  it,  throw  it  about,  no 
matter  whether  it  be  a  kitten  or  a  brownie.  Ho 
tears  the  choicest  rose  to  pieces,  because  that  is 
the  only  way  he  can  find  out  Avhat  is  inside.  He 
pounds  away  on  a  drum  or  an  old  tin  pan,  because 
it  affords  him  pleasing  entertainment,  and  in  that 
way  he  learns  something  about  it.    His  mind  feeds 


58  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

on  sensations  just  as  tlie  body  feeds  on  bread  and 
meat.  He  is  naturally  as  bungry  for  tbem  as  he 
is  for  his  meals.  To  deny  tbem  to  bim  is  to  do 
him  as  much  harm  as  to  deny  him  food.  As  we 
take  pains  in  supplying  the  latter,  the  former 
should  with  equal  intelligence  and  with  equal  lib- 
erality be  provided  for  him.  By  this  it  should  not 
be  understood  that  he  is  to  be  permitted  to  de- 
stroy everything  that  he  can  get  his  hands  on — 
though  there  ought  to  be  many  things  given  him 
for  that  purpose  if  he  so  inclines — but  that  objects 
in  variety,  particularly  from  the  outside  world, 
should  always  be  at  his  disposal,  always  be  coming 
into  his  little  world.  Many  children  would  do  less 
damage  to  the  furniture  if  this  propensity  could 
only  be  given  indulgence  by  allowing  them  to  tear 
some  worthless  things  to  bits  once  in  a  while.  It 
needs  direction,  not  suppression — direction  not  in 
a  specific  way  in  these  early  years,  but  in  a  general 
way.  There  are  thousands  of  things  with  which 
he  may  become  familiar  by  such  management,  and 
that  too  without  realizing  that  he  is  making  any 
special  effort  to  learn.  This  informal  education  in 
these  years  is  just  as  important  as  the  formal  edu- 
cation of  the  schoolroom  which  he  is  soon  to  enter. 
The  sensations  thus  constantly  crowding  in 
upon  the  child  will,  however,  give  him  little  valu- 
able knowledge  unless  he  be  wisely,  though  in- 
formally, guided  in  getting  the  meaning  out  of 
them.  He  must  be  helped  to  understand  them. 
With  very  little  aid  he  will  make  great  progress 
himself.  Each  discovery  of  a  new  power  or  activ- 
ity in  himself  will  give  him  entertainment  for  a 


THE  SENSES.— GENERAL  FUNCTIONS.       59 

whole  day.  lie  may  make  mistakes  without  num- 
ber, but  care  will  sooner  or  hiter  bring  liim  around 
to  correct  most  of  them  himself.  There  is  no 
need  for  worry  that  he  is  losing  a  multitude  of 
()})portunities  to  learn  things.  A  thousand  acorns 
are  destroyed  where  one  grows  into  a  tree,  and 
ten  thousand  flowers  bloom  A\'here  one  produces 
fruit.  The  wise  child  is  that  one  who  knows  ever}- 
thing  he  sees;  not  the  one  who  can  tell  all  tlie 
stories  he  has  had  read  to  him. 

Furnishing,  then,  as  the  senses  do,  the  mate- 
rials which  are  to  be  worked  up  into  knowledge, 
everything  said  in  the  preceding  chapters  concern- 
ing their  relation  to  the  mind  and  concerning  the 
importance  of  keeping  them  in  vigorous,  healthy 
condition  ought  to  be  growing  more  clear.  It  is 
important  that  weakness  or  latency  or  disease  in 
any  sense  organ  receive  special  attention  as  already 
suggested,  but  in  our  zeal  we  must  not  forget  that 
the  normal  children  may  be  going  wrong  through 
our  neglect.  In  her  efforts  to  encourage  a  delicate 
appetite  in  one  child,  a  mother  may  allow  another 
to  become  the  slave  of  an  artificial  or  uncontrolled 
appetite.  In  shielding  one  from  excessive  use  of 
his  eyes,  she  may  overlook  the  fact  that  another 
is  losing  his  eyesight  in  reading  fine  print  or  in 
trying  to  write  fine  copies  for  his  teacher  in  pen- 
manship. If  boys  and  girls  with  perfect  senses 
are  making  no  greater  progress  in  sense-perception 
than  their  less  fortunate  mates,  somebody  is  at 
fault.  They  ought  to  be  advancing  more  rapidly, 
in  making  nice  distinctions  and  accurate  observa- 
tions than  their  defective  classmates. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CONSCIOUSNESS    AND    ArPEECEPTION. 

The  bridge  over  from  the  physical  to  the  men- 
tal is  found  in  consciousness.  For  our  present 
purpose  consciousness  may  be  defined  as  the  self 
knowing  its  own  states  or  activities.  It  is  that 
which  distinguishes  the  animal  from  the  plant, 
and  which  in  the  child  enables  him  to  recognize 
himself  as  a  thinking,  feeling,  self-active  being. 
It  enters  into  every  mental  activity,  and  is  the 
one  great  characteristic  of  all  minds.  For  this  rea- 
son many  authorities  prefer  to  call  the  various  men- 
tal activities  phases  of  consciousness. 

As  heretofore  explained,  external  forces,  no 
matter  how  tumultuously  they  may  assail  the 
nervous  organism,  nor  how  faithfully  they  may  be 
carried  to  the  brain,  can  not  enter  the  mind  save 
through  the  door  of  consciousness.  Even  pain, 
as  a  toothache  or  a  headache,  slips  below  conscious- 
ness when  something  else  is  given  a  place  in  it. 
The  power  to  adjust  the  mind  so  as  to  give  one 
sensation  a  place  in  consciousness  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  others  is  just  as  much  a  matter  of  attain- 
ment as  any  other  power  mentioned  in  this  book. 
Harriet  Martineau  as  a  young  girl  visited  the  sea- 
shore with  some  friends,  and,  being  of  a  very 
60 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  APPERCEPTION.       01 

nervoiTS  disposition,  was  so  excited  that  she  at  first 
was  unable  to  see  the  breakers  or  to  hear  tiiem 
beating  against  the  rocks.  Observe  the  children 
in  your  circle  for  a  few  days,  and  note  how  often 
they  have  similar  experiences. 

Note  also  how  quickly  a  child  becomes  inter- 
ested and  so  wholly  absorbed  in  some  object  that 
it  is  difficult  to  turn  his  attention  to  anything 
else.  Probably  in  some  cases  it  is  pure  willful- 
ness, but  it  is  more  often  due  to  our  inability  to 
get  into  his  consciousness.  He  does  not  hear,  be- 
cause he  is  seeing.  He  does  not  see,  because  he 
is  hearing.  He  does  not  hear  nor  see  you,  be- 
cause he  is  seeing  or  hearing  something  else.  He 
may  not  have  more  pleasure  iii  it  than  he  would 
in  you  or  in  what  you  are  trying  to  offer  him,  but 
the  latter  pimply  does  not  get  into  his  conscious- 
ness sufficiently,  if  at  all.  I  have  two  very  little 
friends  who,  I  am  assured,  love  me  and  frequently 
call  up  good  times  they  have  had  with  me,  but  I 
often  pass  them  with  a  friendly  "  Good  morn- 
ing "  that, does  not  affect  them  any  more  than  it 
does  the  man  in  the  moon.  This  explains  why 
children  often  do  not  hear  when  mother  calls. 
Illustrative  of  the  opposite,  however,  is  the  case 
of  a  little  friend  that  quietly  notified  her  mother, 
who  had  spent  some  minutes  calling  her,  though 
she  was  lying  in  the  grass  near  by,  that-  she  was 
"  playing  cow,  and  so,  of  course,  couldn't  hear!  " 

By  its  function  consciousness  is  a  differentiat- 
ing activity,  and,  as  the  sensory  ganglia  in  the 
brain  of  tlie  newborn  babe  are  scarcely  differenti- 
ated, there  is  little  or  nothing  to  come  into  con- 


62  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

sciousness  with  any  degree  of  distinctness.  Dis- 
comfort or  pain,  without  location  or  definition, 
causes  him  to  cry,  but  the  effort  is  purely  reflex- 
ive. It  is  possible  that  by  his  very_  cry  he  rouses 
consciousness  to  recognize  sound  as  distinct  from 
pain  if  perchance  the  latter  has  in  some  manner 
already  found  a  place  there.  Consciousness  knows 
feelings,  states,  as  well  as  activities,  and  the  con- 
tinuation or  repetition  of  any  new  and  marked 
sensation  is  Nature's  method  of  starting  the  men- 
tal life  of  the  child.  How  feeble  must  be  this  first 
glimmer  in  conscious  life!  But  it  is  a  glimmer, 
and  it  is  of  life!  Th^  movement  thus  begun  en- 
ables consciousness  to  distinguish  the  different 
senses  from  each  other,  and  then  the  different 
affections  of  the  same  sense,  as  already  explained, 
expanding  and  strengthening  at  every  step. 

In  these  early  days  the  child  lies  enveloped  in 
a  mass  of  common  feeling,  almost  exclusively 
sensuous,  and  the  pleasure  that  comes  as  one  feel- 
ing after  another  is  slightly  lifted  above  its  com- 
panion feelings  in  consciousness  is  ju^  as  grate- 
ful to  him  as  the  satisfaction  which  food  brings 
to  his  appetite. 

But  while  consciousness  is  discovering  differ- 
ences in  these  feelings,  in  some  way  also  one  feel- 
ing begins  to  remind  the  child  of  another  which 
he  once  experienced,  and  the  two  great  relations 
which  enter  into  all  knowledge,  difference  and 
identity,  are  recognized.  What  are  these  relations? 
Simply  of  difference  and  likeness  in  certain  sensa- 
tions or  feelings.  But  the  grasping  of  these  rela- 
tions constitutes  knowledge.     As  a  new  sensation 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  APPERCEPTION.      63 

comes  into  consciousness,  the  only  meaning  which 
it  can  get  is  that  it  is  like  another  which  was  once 
there.  Slowly,  yet  rapidly  enough  for  the  safety 
of  the  brain,  skill  in  recognizing  this  likeness  and 
its  opposite,  unlikeness,  comes  to  the  child.  Many 
times  the  new  is  interpreted  by  means  of  the  old 
until  the  mind  becomes  less  dependent  upon  the 
latter,  and  gets  the  meaning  of  the  new  immedi- 
ately by  "  reading  itself  into  it."  This  process  is 
called  apperception.  As  consciousness  begins  .as- 
serting itself,  each  succeeding  effort  reacts  upon 
it,  as  exercise  reacts  upon  a  hand  or  arm,  increas- 
ing its  strength  and  skill,  and  gives  it  added  power 
to  act  in  similar  lines.  So  to  the  interpretation  or 
to  the  discovery  of  relation  in  each  new  sensation 
it  brings  increased  ability.  This  reaction,  this 
effect  upon  the  self  after  each  effort,  is  called  re- 
tention. Understanding  this,  you  can  see  that 
whereas  in  the  first  acquaintance  with  a  new  sen- 
sation or  experience  we  consciously  bring  the  old 
to  bear  upon  it  to  find  out  its  likeness  or  differ- 
ence, we  are  afterward  able  to  bring  the  self,  as 
organized  by  the  past  experiences,  to  bear  upon  it, 
and  thus  get  its  meaning  at  once  without  con- 
scious comparison.  This  is  what  is  meant  by 
"  reading  one's  self  into  it."  You  can  also  easily 
see  that,  in  whatever  general  lines  a  child  may  be 
exercising  his  activity,  his  apperceptive  powers, 
or  so-called  apperceptive  organs,  will  be  cor- 
respondingly increased.  If  he  uses  his  eyes,  he 
will  soon  attain  skill  in  interpreting  eye  sensa- 
tions; if  his  ears,  in  interpreting  sound.  If  he 
live  among  miners,  he  will  the  more  readily  dis- 


64  THE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

cern  anything  pertaining  to  mining;  if  among 
sailors,  anything  pertaining  to  the  sea;  if  among 
farmers,  anything  pertaining  to  the  farm.  As  he 
exercises  his  mind  in  counting,  he  becomes  skilled 
in  the  art  of  computation;  in  classifying  plants,  he 
gains  in  ability  to  distinguish  flowers  and  fruits; 
in  naming  the  stars,  he  rises  to  a  ready  apprehen- 
sion of  the  constellations.  It  is  for  this  reason 
that  the  same  experience-  means  one  thing  to  a 
scientist  and  another  thing  to  a  merchant;  that  a 
piece  of  marble  means  one  thing  to  a  sculptor  and 
another  to  a  geologist;  that  a  jardiniere  of  deli- 
cately branching  plants  means  a  vase  of  maiden- 
hair ferns  to  one  child  and  "  a  pot  of  green  feath- 
ers "  to  another;  that  the  word  reed  means  a  long, 
slender  grass  stalk  to  the  son  of  a  countryman  and 
a  thin  strip  of  brass  to  the  son  of  an  organ-maker; 
that  the  cross  is  a  symbol  of  freedom  to  one  man 
and  of  oppression  to  another. 

Everything  that  comes  into  the  life  of  the 
child,  whether  through  his  environment,  his  oc- 
cupation, his  companions,  or  his  books,  affects 
him,  organizes  him,  in  such  a  way  as  to  determine 
in  great  measvire  the  meaning  which  he  will  put 
into  and  get  out  of  each  succeeding  experience. 
However  strange  it  may  seem,  tlie  only  meaning  a 
child  gets  out  of  a  thing  is  that  which  he  puts  into  it. 
Whatever  he  is  himself  he  will  in  kind  be  getting 
out  of  each  new  experience.  If  you  wish  to  find 
out  all  about  a  boy,  get  him  to  express  himself 
freely  in  words  and  actions  about  some  thing 
which  you  can  bring  to  his  notice.  His  words 
and  actions  are  approximately  about  the  object, 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND   APPERCEPTION.      65 

but  they  are  as  truly  about  himself.  In  them  he 
reveals  what  he  knows,  what  he  is,  as  clearly  as 
a  burnished  mirror  reflects  his  ruddy  face;  indeed, 
the  only  thing  he  sees  in  an  object  is  himself,  and 
it  is  himself  that  he  reads  not  into  but  in  that 
object. 

Put  a  robin's  egg  or  nest  on  the  desk  and 
adroitly  get  the  boys  and  girls  to  talking  about  it 
at  recess  while  you  are  apparently  busy  at  some- 
thing else.  Take  mental  notes  and  write  them  out 
afterward.  Test  them  in  the  same  way  with  a  tad- 
pole, a  violet,  a  strawberry,  a  snail,  a  praying 
mantis,  a  butterfly,  a  dragon  fly,  a  cotton  plant,  a 
lump  of  anthracite  coal,  and  you  will  soon  learn 
more  about  those  children  and  their  homes — what 
they  talk  about,  what  they  read,  where  they  have 
been,  what  they  are  thinking  about,  what  Icind  of 
language  they  use,  what  manners  they  have,  what 
ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  what  they  lack,  what 
they  retain,  whether  they  are  accurate  or  loose  in 
their  observations,  whether  they  reason  well  or 
poorly — than  you  could  learn  in  a  whole  year  by 
direct  questions. 

Give  a  child  an  idea  of  a  rectangle,  and  start 
him  around  to  find  all  the  rectangles  he  can  see 
in  the  room.  He  will  name  the  windows,  the 
doors,  the  blackboards,  the  slates,  the  desks,  the 
books,  the  walls,  the  ceiling,  the  panes  of  glass. 
Try  him  again  with  a  circle,  a  triangle,  with  an 
idea  of  wood,  of  cloth,  of  a  nail  head,  a  leaf,  a 
pencil,  a  chair.  In  all  cases  he  will  recognize  these 
in  objects  presented  to  him  only  as  he  is  able  to 
see  that  in  them  which  is  in  himself  as  idea.  This 
8 


66  THE  STUDY  OF  THE   CHILD. 

simple  principle,  so  easily  verified  in  children,  con- 
trols every  onward  movement  in  knowledge-get- 
ting, however  slight,  and  a  thorough  understand- 
ing of  it  is  essential  to  any  profitable  study  of 
their  development. 

A  few  simple  experiments  additional  will  help 
us  to  formulate  the  laws  in  accordance  with  which 
apperception  acts.  Give  a  child  a  piece  of  candy. 
He  instantly  puts  it  into  his  mouth  and  gets  pleas- 
ure out  of  it.  Some  time  after,  let  him  choose 
from  several  articles  in  your  hand,  among  which 
is  a  stick  of  candy  like  the  former,  and  he  prompt- 
ly picks  it  up.  Vary  the  test  from  time  to  time 
with  sticks  of  differing  forms  and  colors.  As  long 
as  the  likeness  is  evident  the  recognition  is  ready 
enough.  Gradually  his  knowledge  extends  until 
he  will  with  fair  certainty  pick  candy  of  any  form 
or  color  from  among  a  variety  of  articles,  even 
though  some  of  them  may  be  round  and  colored  so 
as  at  least  to  suggest  the  first  stick  he  ate.  It 
does  not  take  any  one  long  to  see  that  similarity 
in  form  or  color  enables  the  child  to  discover  the 
second  as  a  stick  of  candy,  and  also  to  see  that  the 
association  of  the  sweet  taste  with  that  of  form 
and  color  in  the  one  experience  was  sufficient  to 
suggest  sweet  taste  again  when  the  form  and  color 
in  the  second  stick  were  recognized.  He  could 
see  by  similarity  that  the  second  was  a  stick  of 
candy,  and  that,  being  a  stick  of  candy,  it  must 
also  be  sweet.  In  both  cases  he  reads  his  former 
experience  into  it,  and  gets  its  meaning  as  a  stick 
of  candy.  The  law  of  aTiperception  by  similarity, 
then,  may  be  stated  as  follows: 


CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  APPERCEPTION.      67 

When  the  mind  recognizes  elements  in  an  ex- 
perience as  similar  to  those  in  a  previous  experi- 
ence, it  immediately  gives  the  new  experience  the 
same  meaning  as  the  old. 

This  law  is  dependent  upon  the  great  law  of 
association  which  may  now  be  stated: 

The  elements  of  which  any  experience  is  com- 
posed become  so  related  in  the  mind  by  the  associa- 
tion that  the  recurrence  of  one  tends  to  bring  bach 
the  others. 

This  law  not  only  makes  apperception  but  all 
knowledge-getting  possible.  At  sight  of  the  stick 
of  candy,  the  sensation  of  taste  also  returns  to  the 
mind;  at  sight  of  a  hot  poker,  the  fact  that  it  will 
burn  comes  back  to  the  child;  at  sound  of  the 
bark  of  the  dog,  comes  also  the  picture  of  the  dog; 
at  the  touch  of  its  fur,  the  picture  of  a  cat  and 
of  its  sharp  claws;  at  sight  of  the  chair,  the  pic- 
ture of  a  man  sitting  on  it;  at  the  sound  of  the 
clock  striking  the  hour  of  nine,  the  children  sing- 
ing the  Gloria  for  the  opening  of  school.  These 
last  illustrations  show  how  contiguity  in  time  or 
place  may  help  the  apperceptive  process  as  well 
as  similarity. 

It  must  be  clear  enough  to  any  teacher  that 
the  principle  of  apperception  sufficiently  explains 
the  need  for  a  sequence  of  studies  and  of  subjects 
in  each  study,  so  that  the  learning  process  will  be 
easy,  natural,  economical.  It  also  shows  that  any 
method  of  instruction  which  adheres  strictly  to 
the  class  plan  and  ignores  the  differences  in  the 
individual  pupils  is  illogical  and  wasteful.  It  is 
more  important  that  the  teacher  find  out  the  facts 


68  THE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

already  mentioned  in  this  chapter  concerning  the 
kind  and  extent  of  each  child's  knowledge,  to- 
gether with  his  skill  in  using  what  he  knows  in 
getting  further  knowledge,  than  that  he  should 
have  all  of  the  information  which  the  best  set  of 
school  records  in  the  world  can  give.  The  best 
training  which  can  be  given  a  child  is  not  that 
which  fills  his  head  with  facts,  but  that  which 
enables  him  to  use  to  the  best  possible  advantage 
the  facts  wdiich  he  does  get.  The  man  with  small 
capital  and  great  capacity  is  sure  to  be  rich;  the 
man  with  great  capital  and  little  capacity  will  soon 
be  poor.  The  principle  holds  just  as  well  in  the 
mental  and  spiritual  world. 


CHAPTEE   X. 

APPERCEPTION  (CONTINUED). — ATTENTION. 

The  reason  that  a  certain  experience  means 
one  thing  to  one  child  and  another  to  a  second  is 
dne  in  large  measure,  as  has  been  explained,  to 
the  differences  in  their  previons  experiences  and 
education.  If  a  rabbit  is  brought  into  the  room, 
one  child  will  flee  from  it,  while  another  will  im- 
mediately fondle  it;  one  will  notice  its  color,  an- 
other its  fur,  another  its  ears,  another  its  tail, 
another  its  teeth,  another  its  eyes,  another  the 
way  it  runs.  If  a  doll  is  brought  in,  one  will  speak 
of  its  clothes,  another  of  its  face,  another  of  its 
hands,  another  of  its  hair,  another  of  the  mate- 
rial of  which  it  is  made.  If  you  pronounce  the 
word  corn  to  the  children,  one  will  think  of  canned 
corn,  another  of  popcorn,  another  of  corn  grow- 
ing in  the  field,  another  of  corn  meal,  another  of 
sweet  corn,  another  of  Kaffir  corn,  another  of 
broom  corn,  another  of  the  corn  on  father's  big 
toe;  still  others  may  think  of  a  grain  of  corn,  its 
shape,  its  color,  its  size,  its  use,  etc. 

An  additional  reason  for  this  great  variety  in 
the  things  first  noticed  and  first  mentioned  by 
them  will  be  found,  if  you  carry  the  experiments 
far  enough,  in  the  fact  that  they  are  the  ones  in 

69 


70  THE   STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

which  for  the  time  at  least  the  children  are  most 
interested.  This  interest  is  caused  by  the  pleas- 
ure which  is  given  the  child  at  the  time  or  which 
it  has  experienced  in  the  past.  The  pleasure  may 
be  enhanced  by  the  familiarity  or  the  novelty  of 
the  object,  or  of  some  element  or  elements  in  it. 
It  may  be  sensuous  or  intellectual,  real  or  im- 
agined. It  is  this  which  gives  it  value.  Any- 
thing has  value  for  us  which  has  power  to  con- 
tribute to  our  enjoyment.  The  fur  of  the  rabbit 
is  soft  to  the  touch,  and  so  delights  the  child; 
the  snow-white  of  its  tail  in  contrast  with  the 
brownish  gray  of  its  body  pleases  the  eye,  and  so 
he  becomes  interested  in  its  color.  The  bright 
ribbons  on  the  doll  stimulate  the  optic  nerve,  and 
interest  is  quickened  at  once.  The  mention  of 
corn  calls  up  the  roasting  ears  at  yesterday's  din- 
ner, because  of  the  enjoyment  they  furnished.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  the  term  pleasure  is  ap- 
plied to  every  kind  of  feeling,  whatever  its  source, 
which  is  in  harmony  with  our  being.  Its  oppo- 
site term,  pain,  is  applied  to  feelings  not  in  har- 
mony with  it.  Interest  may  arise  from  the  latter 
as  well  as  from  pleasure,  and  so  value  may  be 
either  positive  or  negative.  Value  may  be  natural 
or  acquired — that  is,  it  may  belong  to  the  object 
itself  or  it  may  be  due  to  the  particular  meaning 
it  has  for  us.  Two  knives  may  be  exactly  alike, 
but  one  is  a  present  from  mother,  and  therefore 
is  worth  a  thousand  times  as  much  as  the  other. 
A  lock  of  hair  may  be  soft  and  silken,  and  as  such 
please  all  who  look  at  it,  but  to  the  one  who  recog- 
nizes it  as  the  dear  curls  of  a  loved  baby  it  has 


APPERCEPTION.— ATTENTION.  71 

value  and  interest  which  is  heyond  computation. 
A  lump  of  silver  ore  lying-  on  the  mountain  side 
is  nothing  but  an  ordinary  stone  to  us,  but  it  sets 
the  imagination  of  an  experienced  miner  on  fire. 
The  more  knowledge  one  may  have  about  an  ob- 
ject the  greater  will  be  the  variety  of  interest  it 
arouses. 

The  reason  a  child  picks  out  one  object  from 
among  several  is  found,  then,  in  the  interest  it 
arouses  in  him,  or  in  the  value  it  has  for  him  be- 
cause of  its  ability  to  arouse  pleasure.  It  is  for 
the  same  reason  that  he  selects  and  exalts  above 
the  others  some  particular  element  in  an  object, 
as,  for  instance,  its  color,  its  shape,  its  texture,  its 
taste,  its  odor,  its  utility,  its  past  associations.  The 
following  laws  may  easily  be  verified: 

The  mind  attaches  most  value  to  that  which 
gives  it  most  pleasure,  antipicated  or  realized. 

Whatever  gives  or  promises  pleasure  or  pain 
to  the  child  aivahens  interest. 

The  element  in  an  experience  which  possesses 
the  m'.ost  value  to  the  child  comes  at  once  into 
prominence  in  consciousness,  the  others  talcing  a 
subordinate  place  in  apperception  or  dropping  out 
of  notice  entirely. 

The  first  may  be  called  the  law  of  value;  the 
second,  the  law  of  interest;  the  third,  the  law  of 
disengagement  or  of  dissociation.  If  it  were  not 
for  these  laws,  everything  w^ould  mean  practically 
the  same  thing  to  us,  and  differentiation  w^ould 
be  a  very  laborious  and  unsatisfactory  process. 
Without  interest,  knowledge  would  be  shorn  of 
much  of  its  charm  and  life  of  all  its  zest.     It 


72  THE   STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

breaks  up  monotony,  and  constantly  incites  the 
mind  to  new  adjustments.  These  laws  lie  at  the 
basis  of  educational  principles,  and  no  method  of 
instruction  can  wisely  ignore  them. 

As  stated  before,  a  variety  of  elements,  of  sen- 
sations, always  lie  in  mass  in  consciousness.  Some 
force  is  necessary  to  push  or  pull  one  of  them  into 
prominence.  If  one  of  the  stimuli  have  sufficient 
value  in  the  way  of  intensity  or  quality  or  pitch 
to  arouse  interest,  pain  or  pleasure,  consciousness 
immediately  apprehends  it,  and  it  becomes  the  ob- 
ject of  attention.  This  is  the  reason  we  increase 
the  volume  of  the  voice  or  change  its  quality  in 
order  to  attract  the  attention  of  one  who  is  ab- 
sorbed in  something  else.  A  very  small  child  soon 
learns  the  philosophy  of  such  a  course,  and  so 
cries  louder  or  with  a  different  tone  in  case  mother 
does  not  promptly  respond. 

When  the  mind  is  concentrated  upon  some 
particular  element  in  an  experience,  it  is  said  to 
be  giving  attention.  This  is  essential  to  all  apper- 
ception, to  all  knowledge.  The  reason  for  the 
selection  of  a  particular  element  to  the  exclusion 
of  others  has  already  been  sufficiently  explained. 
The  isolation  from  the  others  must  be  so  complete 
that  it  will  not  be  confused  with  them.  That 
being  secured,  the  self  must  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  that  element  by  adjusting  all  of  its  powers 
to  it  so  as  to  find  its  meaning.  There  is  very  great 
difference  in  merely  looking  at  a  thing  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  other  things,  and  in  turning  the  whole 
of  one's  activities  upon  it  in  order  to  interpret  it. 
There  will  be  no  meaning  in  it  until  the  mind  dis- 


1 


APPERCEPTION. -ATTENTION.      73 

covers  correspondence  between  the  new  elements 
and  those  with  which  it  is  already  familiar.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  rapidity  in  adjustment  should 
be  sought  constantly.  Many  children  wear  their 
eyes  out  staring  at  a  thing,  imagining  that  they 
are  giving  attention.  If  they  are  not  at  the  same 
time  actively  engaged  in  fitting  themselves  to  it, 
as  it  were,  there  is  little  hope  of  their  becoming 
any  the  wiser.  A  further  word  in  the  way  of  illus- 
tration may  be  in  place.  A  child  was  given  a  key. 
He  immediately  toddled  to  the  door  and  tried  to 
insert  it  in  the  keyhole.  Had  he  not  brought  to 
bear  upon  it  his  past  knowledge  and  discovered 
identity  or  likeness,  such  a  movement  would  have 
had  no  significance  whatever.  I  gave  a  word, 
felicific,  to  a  class  of  young  men  and  women  not 
long  since.  It  had  no  meaning  to  them,  in  spite 
of  all  their  efforts  to  "  remember."  I  suggested  a 
division  of  the  word,  and  lo!  one  of  them  saw  at 
once  his  old  friends  felix  and  felicity,  and  another 
recognized  in  fie  the  essence  of  fiction,  and  they 
were  not  Latin  students  either.  A  little  practice 
following  enabled  them  to  adjust  their  knowledge 
of  words  to  the  interpretation  of  many  strangers 
with  surprising  facility.  I  stepped  off  the  train 
once  at  midnight  in  a  blinding  storm  and  started 
to  find  a  hotel  I  had  been  told  was  not  far  away. 
I  soon  discovered  that  I  was  lost,  when  a  flash  of 
lightning,  though  lasting  but  an  instant,  revealed 
a  score  of  objects  to  me.  Almost  before  it  was 
gone  I  had  brought  to  bear  upon  them  all  the 
description  given  me,  and  had  located  the  hotel  so 
accurately  that  I  was  able  to  go  directly  to  its  door. 


74  TEE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

Accuracy  is  as  important  in  the  adjustment  as 
rapidity.  In  one  sense,  we  may  say  that  there  is 
really  no  adjustment  that  is  not  accurate.  If  the 
process  lack  intelligence  and  self-control,  flurry, 
confusion,  and  waste  must  result.  There  is  a  kind 
of  superficial  adjustment  which  comes  so  easily 
and  so  quickly  that  the  deeper  meanings  are  en- 
tirely overlooked.  Dr.  Baldwin  very  aptly  calls 
such  attention  liquid  attention,  for  it  as  quickly 
loses  the  effect  of  the  new  knowledge  as  water  loses 
the  form  of  the  vessel  from  which  it  has  been 
poured. 

Follow  up  all  of  this  with  a  variety  of  tests  and 
experiments,  and  discover  how  and  why  children 
differ  in  the  rapidity  and  accuracy  of  their  ad- 
justment to  common  things.  Find  how  easily  they 
are  deceived  and  how  quickly  they  learn  to  adjust 
themselves  with  greater  ease. 

Apperception  is  not  complete,  however,  until 
this  adjustment  has  resulted  in  uniting  or  identify- 
ing the  new  element  with  others  already  familiar 
to  the  mind.  The  disengagement  which  took  it 
away  from  its  companion  elements  in  conscious- 
ness makes  possible  its  association  and  alliance 
with  others  of  its  own  kind  and  name.  The  recog- 
nition of  some  such  relationship  is,  of  course, 
essential  to  the  adjustment  already  described,  but 
the  final  stage  reacts,  intensifies,  and  reaffirms  the 
identification  and  assimilation,  so  that  the  mean- 
ing takes  definite  form  as  an  idea.  The  idea  may 
be  simple  or  complex,  depending  upon  the  num- 
ber of  elements  which  the  mind  may  relate  and 
combine  with  it.     Practice  enables  the  child  to 


APPERCEPTION.— ATTENTION.  75 

hold  in  mind  an  increasing  number  of  relations, 
and  his  attention  becomes  "  many-sided  " — that  is, 
he  is  able  to  apprehend  and  give  meaning  at  once 
to  many  elements  in  an  experience. 

Hold  some  strange  object  before  the  class  for 
an  instant,  then  discover  how  many  things  each 
pupil  can  name  in  writing  about  it.  Find  out,  if 
possible,  why  some  of  them  saw  so  little  in  it. 
Their  own  explanations  may  be  of  value  in  adapt- 
ing means  and  methods  to  their  needs. 

The  term  relation  has  been  used  several  times, 
and  its  meaning  ought  not  to  be  misunderstood. 
It  is  simply  the  connection  which  the  mind  gives  ob- 
jects because  of  the  discovery  of  common  or  like  ele- 
ments. It  is  that  which  enables  a  child  to  con- 
nect or  to  see  the  whole  in  the  part,  the  cause  in 
the  effect,  the  class  in  the  individual,  the  resem- 
blance or  contrast  of  one  object  with  another  in 
color,  or  form,  or  size,  or  texture.  It  leads  to  all 
identification  and  differentiation.  By  it  knowl- 
edge rises  from  the  individual  to  the  class,  the  re- 
lation, the  common  element,  becoming  more  ideal 
and  more  universal  with  each  succeeding  experi- 
ence. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SYMBOLISM. 

Each  object  in  the  universe  is  the  expression 
of  an  idea.  No  flower  of  the  field,  no  pebble  by 
the  wayside,  no  bird  that  skims  the  air,  no  star 
that  glimmers  in  the  wide  expanse  of  heaven,  can 
be  what  it  is  save  as  the  realization,  the  concrete 
individual  expression  of  that  which  first  existed 
as  idea.  Each  stands  as  the  sign  of  the  idea  out 
of  which  it  was  born.  That  idea  is  its  true  mean- 
ing, and  it  is  that,  and  that  alone,  which  we 
strive  to  find  in  all  knowledge-getting.  A  child 
wishes  to  communicate  the  idea  to  me  that  he  has 
hurt  his  finger;  he  holds  it  up  and  moans.  In 
getting  the  meaning  of  his  gesture  and  cry,  I  am 
simply  getting  the  idea  of  which  they  are  the 
expression  or  the  sign.  He  brings  an  apple  and 
a  knife  and  lays  them  on  my  lap.  The  meaning 
of  this  act  is  the  idea  that  originated  and  directed 
it.  He  utters  a  word,  and  its  meaning  is  the  idea 
he  chose  it  to  express.  He  draws  a  rough  picture; 
it  is  meaningless  save  as  I  find  the  idea  prompting 
it.  What  is  true  of  everything  that  the  child  or 
the  man  creates  or  does  is  also  true  of  everything 
that  God  creates,  whether  it  be  a  mountain  or  a 
continent,  a  dewdrop  or  an  ocean,  a  tree  or  a  lion. 
76 


SYMBOLISM.  Y7 

Everything  having  form,  whether  in  art  or  nature, 
is  the  sign  of  an  idea,  and  gets  significance  from 
that  fact,  and  tliat  only. 

Wliatever  stands  in  jDhice  of  an  idea  as  its 
representative  is  called  its  sign,  its  symbol.  It 
may  be  an  object,  a  color,  an  odor,  a  taste,  a  move- 
ment, a  gesture,  a  sound,  a  word.  It  may  suggest 
the  idea  by  its  inherent  character  or  by  conven- 
tional agreement.  As  an  example  of  the  former, 
the  word  rush  by  its  sound  suggests  the  idea  and 
the  action  for  which  it  stands;  the  same  is  true  of 
the  words  cluck,  buzz,  thrush,  sneeze,  etc.  As 
an  example  of  the  latter,  see  the  words  in  this 
sentence.  A  slight  likeness  of  meaning  suggests 
an  object  as  a  sign  or  symbol  of  an  idea.  In  this 
way  the  square  became  the  symbol  of  integrity; 
the  chain,  of  fellowship;  the  dove,  of  innocence; 
the  egg,  of  life;  the  eye,  of  frankness.  By  virtue 
of  its  relationship  the  part  is  able  to  symbolize 
the  whole,  as  a  sail  the  ship;  a  chimney,  a  house; 
a  hand,  the  body;  so  the  cause  symbolizes  the  ef- 
fect, as  a  match,  a  fire;  a  drought,  short  crops;  a 
runaway  horse,  danger;  so  an  instrument  symbol- 
izes an  action,  as  the  sword,  war;  the  pen,  peace; 
cordage  and  anchor,  commerce;  the  retort,  sci- 
ence. Each  has  its  true  meaning  only  as  the  idea 
for  W'hich  it  stands  is  apprehended.  Accidental 
association  often  gives  an  object  great  powder  as 
a  symbol.  The  cross  thus  became  the  symbol  of 
riiristianity;  the  garter,  of  a  great  order  of 
knighta;  the  crescent,  of  the  Ottoman  Empire.  By 
its  intimate  relationship  Avitli  the  everyday  life 
of  a  people,  a  plant  or  a  flower  becomes  the  sym- 


78  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CEILD. 

bol  for  a  nation,  as  the  shamrock  for  Ireland;  the 
thistle  for  Scotland;  the  rose  for  England;  the  lily 
for  France;  the  lotus  for  Egypt. 

Ideas  rise  from  objects.  Engrossed  with  the 
former,  we  forget  that  the  office  of  the  latter  is 
to  serve  as  symbols,  as  tangible  expressions  of  that 
which  existed  in  another  mind.  Objects  have  no 
other  right  to  be.  While  at  first  all  the  ele- 
ments of  an  object  must  be  apprehended  through 
the  senses  before  its  full  meaning  can  be  under- 
stood, it  soon  happens,  as  a  result  of  association 
and  familiarity,  that  one  element  is  sufficient  to 
enable  the  mind  to  apprehend  the  whole  object 
and  get  its  full  meaning.  As  an  illustration,  the 
odor  is  sufficient  to  call  up  the  full  picture  of  the 
rose;  the  taste,  of  an  apple;  the  voice,  of  a  friend; 
the  ears,  of  a  rabbit;  a  feather,  of  an  ostrich;  a 
letter,  of  a  word.  All  of  the  foregoing  depends 
upon  the  principle  of  symbolism.  The  wiser  one 
becomes,  the  deeper  and  wider  becomes  the  mean- 
ing of  every  sensuous  element,  the  less  dependent 
is  he  upon  his  sensations,  for  each  sensation  in- 
creases in  symbolizing  power — that  is,  in  power 
to  stand  as  the  representative  of  other  sensations 
and  corresponding  meanings.  I  hear  the  ringing 
of  a  bell,  and  instantly  there  comes  to  my  mind 
the  eye  picture  of  a  bell,  its  shape,  its  material, 
its  size,  and  also  of  the  word  bell.  I  hear  the 
word  hell  pronounced,  and  I  at  once  image  the 
sound  of  a  bell,  together  with  the  other  qualities 
just  mentioned,  and  possibly  also  image  the  writ- 
ten or  printed  Avord  bell,  and  probably  also  the 
muscular  movement  necessary  to  write  it. 


SYMBOLISM.  79 

The  sound  of  the  bell  or  of  the  word  bell  may 
also  stimulate  the  imaging  of  the  building  in 
which  it  is  located,  its  use,  its  history,  etc.  You 
probably  now  understand  what  was  meant  by  one 
sense  symbolizing  another,  and  how  it  happens 
that  in  simply  tasting  an  object  you  are  able  to 
tell  its  shape,  its  texture,  and  its  color,  qualities 
that  can  come  directly  only  through  touch  and 
sight;  that  in  simply  looking  at  an  object  you  are 
able  to  tell  whether  it  is  smooth  or  rough,  far  or 
near — qualities  and  relations  that  originally  came 
through  touch  and  muscular  sensation  only.  You 
must  also  see  in  this  the  incalculable  value  of 
symbols  in  all  knowledge-getting.  They  vast- 
ly multiply  the  mind's  power  of  attaining 
knowledge  both  in  rapidity  and  comprehensive- 
ness. 

The  term  symbol  is  often  used  of  objects  hav- 
ing a  profound  meaning  or  relationship,  in  many 
cases  far  beyond  the  understanding  of  the  unin- 
itiated or  of  the  average  mind.  The  symbolisms 
of  mythology,  of  some  systems  of  religion,  or 
of  philosophy,  reveal  their  beauty  only  to  those 
who  make  them  objects  of  special  study.  It  is 
also  used  in  other  ways,  but  for  our  present 
purpose  these  uses  ought  not  to  be  confounded 
with  the  use  as  explained  in  the  preceding  para- 
graphs. 

If  the  function  of  all  concrete,  sensuous  mate- 
rial is  now  clear,  then  everything  you  see  about 
you  is  aglow  with  meaning,  everything  has  a  story 
to  tell  you.  It  is  a  principle  easily  recognized  in 
psychology  that  an   idea   can  be   communicated 


80  THE  STUDY  OF  THE   CHILD. 

from  one  mind  to  another  only  by  giving  it  some 
physical  existence,  which  in  turn  the  receiving 
mind  idealizes  or  interprets.  The  sensuous  world 
has  another  function,  however,  than  that  of  merely 
serving  as  the  repository  of  an  idea  or  a  group  of 
ideas.  It  through  the  nervous  organism  stimu- 
lates mental  activity  and  invites  interpretation. 
There  is  nothing  that  remains  silent.  Everything 
knocks  at  the  portals  of  the  mind  through  some 
of  the  senses  and  clamors  for  recognition.  It 
catches  the  rays  of  the  sun  and  hurls  them  into 
the  eye,  saying,  "  Look  at  me."  It  swings  back 
and  forth,  driving  the  sound  waves  into  the  ear, 
saying,  "  Hear  me."  It  rubs  against  you,  saying, 
"  Feel  me."  It  rushes  into  the  nostrils,  insisting 
that  you  smell  it,  and  squeezes  the  papillae  on  the 
back  of  the  tongue,  urging  you  to  taste  it.  In 
these  ways  it  forces  itself  into  the  consciousness 
of  the  child  and,  as  already  explained,  there  sur- 
renders its  meaning,  the  idea  it  embodies.  Every 
time  the  same  sensations  are  aroused  the  same 
idea — that  is,  the  same  meaning — arises.  The 
sensation  is  that  which  is  interpreted,  and  in  a 
way  is  a  symbol,  but  it  is  projected  and  so  inti- 
mately associated  with  the  object  causing  it  that 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  they  are  one.  In  ex- 
amining a  sensation  which  an  object  produces,  we 
usually  have  no  other  thought  than  that  we  are 
examining  the  object  itself.  This  is  more  true  of 
the  child,  for  he  has  not  yet  learned  the  philoso- 
phy of  the  process. 

An  idea  is  always  general  in  its  nature.     A 
symbol,  as  an  object,  is  individual,  but  in  mean- 


SYMBOLISM.  81 

ing  is  general  or  universal.  By  saying  that  it  is 
universal  we  mean  that  the  same  meaning  or  the 
same  thought  would  arise  in  apperceiving  all  the 
objects  of  the  class  of  objects  to  which  that  par- 
ticular object  belongs.  The  power  of  a  symbol, 
then,  is  determined  by  the  depth  and  comprehen- 
siveness of  meaning  it  contains  for  the  apperceiv- 
ing mind.  The  less  of  the  sensuous  in  proportion 
to  the  meaning  it  bears,  the  greater  its  ability  to 
serve  the  mind.  We  must  not  forget  that  nothing 
has  meaning  which  is  not  given  it  by  the  mind 
itself,  and  that  an  object  is  dependent  upon  the 
mind  for  its  symbolizing  value.  Place  an  object 
before  a  child,  say  a  hat.  Discover  what  he  knows 
about  it.  Draw  now  the  merest  outline  of  the  hat 
on  the  board.  He  will  probably  see  nothing  there 
but  some  "  curved  lines."  Fill  up  the  outline  a 
little,  and  he  may  see  nothing  more.  Shade  and 
work  in  details,  developing  relief.  When  the  pic- 
ture can  hardly  be  distinguished  from  the  real 
hat,  he  exclaims,  "  It  is  a  hat."  Eepeat  the  pro- 
cess for  a  few  days,  and  he  will  soon  learn  to  recog- 
nize a  hat  in  the  slightest  outline  you  can  place 
upon  the  board.    Parts  of  three  circles,  ^ 

slightly  modified,  symbolize  not  that  ^  \~^ 
hat,  but  the  whole  hat  tribe  to  him.    (  ) 

Long  before  this  he  had  heard  the 
word  hat,  and  that  had  served  to  stand  in  place 
of  the  hat  itself  and  to  symbolize  hats  in  gen- 
eral. Write  now  the  word  ]iai  on  the  board, 
and  by  the  association  of  the  spoken  word,  the 
hat,  and  the  picture  of  the  hat,  it  serves  first  to 
call  up  the  particular  hat,  and  then  to  symbolize 
9 


82  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD, 

the  idea  of  hats  in  general.  It  is  readily  seen  that 
the  mere  outline  has  greater  symbolizing  power 
than  the  fully  shaded  picture,  and  that  the  word 
hat  has  more  than  either.  Kepeat  the  experiment 
with  other  objects  and  with  other  children,  and 
note  their  varying  abilities  in  interpretation.  Dis- 
cover why  some  symbols  have  greater  meaning 
to  some  children  than  to  others,  and  why  some 
have  greater  meaning  to  all. 

The  age  when  children  are  able  to  see  in  a 
colored  picture  the  representation  of  the  object 
varies  greatly.  A  very  young  child  will  show  some 
interest  in  himself  as  seen  in  the  mirror,  but  prob- 
ably the  life  in  the  face,  as  shown  both  by  expres- 
sion and  movement,  affords  the  explanation  of  it. 
If  the  face  were  perfectly  still,  the  recognition 
would  come  later.  Objects  in  motion  are  always 
the  earliest  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  child. 
The  interest  first  shown  in  colored  pictures  is  due 
more  to  the  presence  of  the  color  than  to  any  ap- 
preciation of  the  form. 

Before  a  child  seems  able  to  distinguish  col- 
ored pictures  he  has  by  association  learned  the 
meaning  of  a  few  words,  and  is  already  using  those 
valuable  symbols.  They  serve  a  marvelous  pur- 
pose in  enabling  him  to  receive  or  communicate 
an  idea  concerning  an  object  when  the  object  itself 
is  absent.  If  he  wishes  a  drink,  he  may  go  to  the 
pitcher  and  try  to  pour  out  some  water.  In  lieu 
of  that  he  may  simply  say  "  drink,'^  and  the  same 
idea  is  conveyed.  As  soon  as  he  learns  the  great 
convenience  of  words  as  symbols,  he  is  disposed  to 
discard  gestures  as  rapidly  as  possible,  and  be- 


SYMBOLISM.  83 

comes  hungry  for  words.  At  first,  words  mean 
objects  and  actions  to  liini,  tlien  relations  and 
qualities,  their  ideal  significance  becoming  more 
abstract  and  less  sensuous  until  they  serve  as  sym- 
bols of  pure  ideas,  and  not  simply  as  representa- 
tives of  objects  and  their  phenomena. 


CHAPTEE  XII. 

LAXGUAGE. 

Symbolism  makes  language  possible,  the  whole 
vocabulary  of  a  people  being  a  great  system  of 
symbols,  each  the  repository,  the  representative  of 
a  thought  from  which  it  came  and  for  which  it 
speaks.  As  already  stated,  many  of  these  words 
originated  in  an  effort  to  imitate  sounds  made  by 
animals  or  by  bodies  in  motion;  others  are  purely 
arbitrary  forms  agreed  upon  to  represent  ideas. 
Many  words  that  originally  belonged  to  the  former 
class  have  become  so  modified  by  long  usage  that 
their  source  is  not  recognized  save  by  those  who 
make  language  an  object  of  special  study.  Many 
words,  at  first  used  to  express  sensuous  feelings 
and  ideas  only,  through  figurative  use  at  last  serve 
to  express  the  highest  emotions  and  thoughts  of 
the  human  soul. 

If  children  who  have  not  learned  to  use  lan- 
guage were  left  alone,  they  would  easily  invent 
a  language  of  their  own,  though,  of  course,  it 
would  contain  a  limited  range  of  words  as  com- 
pared with  the  vocabulary  of  their  parents.  The 
impulse  to  expression  is  characteristic  of  every 
child.  He  is  not  satisfied  simply  with  expression, 
but  strives  to  express  himself  in  such  a  way  as  to 
84 


LANGUAGE.  85 

be  understood  b}'  others.  Xo  matter  what  kind 
of  a  sound  he  utters  or  what  kind  of  a  gesture 
he  makes,  if  he  finds  himself  understood  by  some 
one  else  he  adopts  that  sound  or  gesture  to  express 
that  same  idea  in  the  future.  Every  child  has 
some  words  or  gestures  of  his  own  manufacture 
which  he  finds  profitable  to  use  even  after  he  has 
learned  by  imitation  the  words  and  gestures  used 
by  his  associates. 

A  child  at  my  table  one  day,  when  thirsty, 
uttered  a  sound  resembling  the  caw  of  a  tired 
crow,  and  the  mother,  divining  its  want,  gave  it 
a  drink.  That  peculiar  sound  served  the  same  pur- 
pose for  many  months,  until  by  imitation  it  began 
to  use  the  word  drink.  A  little  friend  called 
sugar  "  gogo  "  for  a  year  or  more  before  she  at- 
tempted to  say  sugar.  Another  habitually  ex- 
tended a  finger  toward  any  object  he  wished  and 
closed  it  quickly,  repeating  the  process  with  great 
rapidity  until  his  wish  was  gratified.  A  little  niece 
used  the  word  hum  for  large,  and  as  she  learned 
the  names  of  things  long  persisted  in  saying 
"  bum-bed,"  "  bum-apple,"  '"  bum-cat,"  etc.  Even 
small  children  agree  among  themselves  to  call  cer- 
tain objects  and  actions  by  certain  "  made-up " 
names.  In  many  cases  the  children  agree  upon 
some  prefix  or  suffix  to  attach  uniformly  to  all 
words  they  use,  and  make  a  language  which  is 
often  difficult  for  adults  and  strangers  to  under- 
stand. Dr.  Oscar  Chrisman  has  gathered  a  mass 
of  interesting  information  concerning  children's 
secret  languages,  which  shows  how  fertile  are  th^ir 
little  brains  in  devising  vocabularies  of  their  own. 


86  THE  STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

The  utility  of  the  language  spoken  by  those 
about  him  is  so  easily  seen  by  the  child  that  as 
soon  as  he  has  picked  up  a  few  words  he  becomes 
as  greedy  for  others  as  the  Sylene  Dragon  did  for 
children  to  swallow.  He  catches  them  up  on 
every  hand,  putting  them  into  immediate  use  with 
such  intelligence  and  accuracy  as  to  surprise  every- 
body about  him.  Pie  apprehends  the  meaning  of 
hundreds  of  them  intuitively,  seldom  asking  for 
their  definition.  I  have  yet  to  discover  the  child 
that  before  attempting  to  read  has  asked  for  the 
meaning  of  the  more  common  conjunctions,  prepo- 
sitions, interjections,  demonstrative  pronouns,  and 
adjectives.  The  meaning  of  many  of  them  readily 
reveals  itself  in  their  concrete  association,  but  the 
slight  hint  even  thus  often  given  shows  with  what 
insight  the  child  is  already  endowed.  Few  chil- 
dren learn  words  in  a  formal  way,  and  yet  at  the 
age  of  six  many  of  them  have  amassed  a  vocabu- 
lary of  from  fifteen  to  eighteen  hundred  words 
which  they  can  nse  with  fair  accuracy.  I  know  a 
healthy  child  two  years  of  age  that  speaks  but  ten 
words,  and  yet  Holden  reports  that  his  son  spoke 
three  hundred  and  ninety-seven  words  at  the  same 
age.  Superintendent  J.  M.  Greenwood  reports  a 
little  girl  of  fifteen  months  using  sixty  words,  and 
at  two  years  of  age  using  five  hundred.  The  study 
of  children's  vocabularies  is  one  of  the  most  fas- 
cinating and  instructive  phases  of  our  subject. 
The  following  conclusions  may  be  verified  in  a  few 
weeks  of  investigation: 

1.  That  after  children  have  learned  a  few 
dozen   words   they   readily   appropriate   the   new 


LANGUAGE.  87 

words  they  hear,  recalling  them  as  needed,  without 
having  made  any  apparent  effort  to  remember 
them. 

2.  That  children  more  readily  understand  and 
use  such  words  as  stand  as  symbols  for  the  objects 
and  activities  with  which  they  are  surrounded, 
picking  up  relation  words  with  similar  ease. 

3.  That  while  children  of  the  same  age  vary 
greatly  in  the  number  of  words  in  their  vocabu- 
laries, they  seem  to  have  a  sufficient  number  to 
express  their  ideas,  showing  that  their  knowledge 
and  vocabularies  grow  at  approximately  the  same 
rate,  and  revealing  also  the  function  of  language 
in  knowledge-getting. 

4.  That  children  learn  words  used  of  objects 
or  actions  present  much  more  readily  than  when 
they  hear  them  read  out  of  books  or  used  in  stories. 

5.  That  almost  without  exception  children 
who  hear  good  English  at  home  make  few  gram- 
matical mistakes,  but  soon  fall  into  grievous  errors 
on  associating  with  other  children  or  with  adults 
whose  speech  is  faulty. 

I  have  been  surprised  at  the  purity  of  the  dic- 
tion of  some  very  small  children.  It  was  as  chaste 
and  appropriate  as  that  of  an  Irving  or  a  Gold- 
smith, there  being  no  affectation  nor  stiffness,  no 
high-sounding  phrases  nor  cumbrous  words  about 
it.  Years  ago  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  two 
little  boys  who  were  talking  like  philosophers, 
using  words  of  Latin  and  Greek  origin  with  dar- 
ing assurance.  I  discovered  the  explanation  in 
the  fact  that  their  father  was  a  man  of  few  words, 
and   that   their  mother  used   Anglo-Saxon   only 


■v 


88  THE   STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

when  some  word  of  foreign  extraction  was  not  at 
hand.  She  encouraged  the  boys  to  go  to  the  dic- 
tionary for  words  to  use  rather  than  to  their  as- 
sociates. Both  of  them  were  slow  tliinkers  and 
measured  talkers.  I  recently  met  a  boy  of  eleven 
in  the  mountains  whose  home  had  been  there  since 
childhood,  and  found  him  wonderfully  versed  in 
the  geology  of  the  locality,  using  technical  terms 
with  an  ease  that  would  give  him  a  hearing  in  an 
academy  of  science. 

As  already  remarked,  children  seldom  lack  for 
words  to  express  their  ideas.  This  is  particularly 
true  of  children  of  from  three  to  twelve  years  of 
age.  The  confusion  and  hesitancy  of  the  youth  is 
not  generally  found  earlier  in  life.  Children  either 
tell  what  they  know  or  frankly  say  they  do  not 
know.  They  may  often  be  wrong  in  what  they 
say,  but  if  they  think  they  know  a  thing  they  usu- 
ally have  a  word  for  it.  If  these  things  be  true, 
the  cultivation  of  a  child's  language  in  these  earlier 
years — years  in  which  we  have  been  exalting  sense- 
perception — needs  to  be  given  greater  prominence 
than  is  now  accorded  it.  Nearly  one  fourth  of 
his  life  in  the  public  schools  is  spent  on  grammar, 
and  when  that  subject  is  finished  he  talks  and 
writes  with  no  more  ease,  comparatively  speaking, 
than  when  he  took  up  the  study.  Grammar  is 
too  often  taught  as  a  means  of  helping  a  child 
correct  his  language,  whereas  proper  guidance  in 
those  years  when  he  was  learning  language  as 
naturally  as  he  was  learning  to  w^alk  would  have 
made  all  such  work  vmnecessary. 

It  is  a  great  error  to  suppose  that  the  child 


LANGUAGE.  89 

learns  to  use  words  intelligently  by  imitation.  He 
pronounces  them  by  imitation^  and  nses  them  in 
a  mechanisal  way  as  he  has  heard  others  use  them; 
but  unless  their  significance  is  apprehended,  they 
are  soon  cast  aside  and  forgotten.  Words  become 
a  part  of  his  mental  furniture,  his  mental  organ- 
ism, or  they  prove  of  little  service.  The  child  has 
no  more  use  for  words  without  meaning  than  he 
has  for  dolls  without  heads.  Words  have  meaning 
only  as  they  symbolize  that  which  he  knows.  If 
the  knowledge  and  the  word  are  both  born  in  the 
same  experience,  they  are  indissolubly  bound  to- 
gether thereafter.  They  can  not  be  forced  upon 
the  child  without  doing  violence  to  his  nature, 
making  him  constrained  and  artificial.  This 
serves  to  indicate  not  only  the  way  in  which  words 
become  a  part  of  the  child,  but  also  the  classes 
of  words  which  he  should  be  expected  to  master. 
Experiment  with  several  children  and  note  their 
inability  to  cope  with  abstract  terms,  however 
small,  and  yet  how  quickly  they  appropriate  large 
words  if  they  but  express  a  familiar  idea  or  an 
idea  which  their  past  knowledge  or  capacity  now 
enables  them  to  comprehend.  Difficulty  in  pro- 
nunciation may  cause  a  child  to  avoid  or  discard 
a  word,  hence  the  simpler  and  more  euphonious 
vernacular  forms  are  better  suited  to  him.  Many 
words  are  understood  by  small  children  long  be- 
fore they  attempt  to  use  them,  as  will  easily  be 
noted  by  any  observer. 

There  comes  a  time  in  the  child's  life  when 
words  serve  a  greater  purpose  than  merely  to  ex- 
press  or   communicate   ideas   of   things   present. 


90  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

They  serve  also  as  blocks  by  means  of  which  a  past 
experience  is  rebuilt  or  an  imaginary  one  de- 
scribed. It  is  then  that  their  symbolize  value  is 
more  evident,  for  they  now  represent  mental  pic- 
tures instead  of  physical  objects  and  activities. 
This  new  step  in  the  use  of  language  is  fraught 
with  weighty  moment  for  the  child.  If  with  a  few 
words  he  can  recall  the  details  of  a  past  experience, 
locating  it  in  time  and  space,  he  must  also  have 
taken  a  great  step  forward  in  mental  activity. 
Test  some  of  your  younger  children  and  see — 

(1)  WTiat  proportion  of  them  readily  recall  the 
details  of  some  occurrences  of  the  week  before; 

(2)  Whether  the  children  with  the  larger  vo- 
cabularies are  as  active  and  accurate  as  the  others. 

Describe  some  interesting  scene  in  your  own 
life,  and  make  similar  tests.  In  both  cases  you 
will  find  that  some  children  who  do  not  lack 
words  in  describing  what  is  present  to  the  senses 
are  surprisingly  helpless  in  attempts  to  describe 
what  they  see  in  the  mind  as  an  image  only.  If 
possible,  discover  the  cause.  It  may  simply  be 
lack  of  experience;  it  may  be  something  else. 
Whatever  it  is,  the  need  for  intelligent,  sympa- 
thetic guidance  in  the  transition  is  clear  enough. 
Words  and  mind  must  work  in  as  close  alliance 
here  as  in  sense-perception. 

As  the  child  judges  and  reasons,  his  language 
must  serve  him  another  purpose.  You  have  no- 
ticed how  difficult  it  is  to  get  many  children  to 
compare  objects  or  pictures  directly  present  be- 
fore them,  particularly  when  the  qualities  are  not 
very  prominent  or  very  clearly'  defined.     When, 


LANGUAGE.  91 

however,  the  absent  objects  are  held  before  the 
mind  by  means  of  their  names  only,  the  difhculty 
is  multiplied  many  times  over.  Here  words  serve 
their  highest  function,  and  the  success  of  the  child 
in  loading  them  up  with  meaning  is  profoundly 
tested. 

The  transition  from  the  use  of  words  applied 
to  individual  objects  to  their  use  in  designating 
classes  of  objects  or  of  activities  is  often  easily 
made  by  children,  and  yet  some  of  them  accom- 
plish it  very  slowly  and  very  laboriously.  The 
use  of  particles  and  of  inflections  to  distinguish 
number  and  gender  puzzles  them  seriously  at 
times.  Amusing  mistakes  of  both  kinds  are  fre- 
quently related  of  the  children  in  every  household 
at  family  reunions.  The  blunders  in  the  use  of 
synonyms  and  homonyms  are  exceedingly  com- 
mon among  children  who  hear  language  a  little 
above  their  comprehension,  or  who  are  required 
to  commit  passages  to  memory  without  under- 
standing their  meaning.  The  following  illustrate 
them:  A  little  friend  of  mine  was  given  the  text, 
"  The  Son  of  man  came  into  the  world  not  to  be 
ministered  unto  but  to  minister."  She  went  off 
repeating  it  to  herself,  and  returned  in  a  few  mo- 
ments, surprising  her  monitor  by  saying,  "  The 
Son  of  man  came  not  to  be  preachered  unto  but 
to  preacher."  "  A  double-minded  man  is  un- 
stable in  all  his  ways  "  was,  after  a  similar  effort, 
announced  as  follows,  "  A  double-minded  man  is 
in  the  stable  all  the  time."  Another  little  sprite 
in  the  same  family  who  had  heard  "  The  Goblins  " 
recited  attempted  it  herself,  and  where  the  boy 


/f 


92  THE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

quickly  dons  his  '^  roundabout "  she  assuringly  as- 
serted that  he  put  on  his  "  whereabouts."  A  study 
of  these  movements  in  the  language  of  the  child 
will  not  only  prove  interesting  in  themselves,  but 
will  be  fruitful  of  suggestions  in  a  pedagogical 
way. 

The  various  transitions  in  the  use  of  language 
already  mentioned  are  more  or  less  critical  stages 
in  the  child's  mental  development,  but  the  step 
by  which  he  also  grasps  the  words  as  eye  pictures 
is  no  less  critical.  That  a  few  straight  lines  and 
curves  having  no  characteristic  common  with  the 
objects  they  symbolize  should  have  meaning  as 
well  as  the  spoken  word  is  as  much  of  a  marvel 
to  every  child  as  it  was  to  the  Indians  who  held 
Captain  John  Smith  prisoner.  In  these  days  of 
reading  and  writing,  the  learning  of  both  by  the 
children  is  taken  as  a  matter  of  coursfe  by  parents 
and  teachers,  but  so  much  in  their  intellectual  life 
is  dependent  upon  the  method  by  which  it  is  ac- 
complished that  it  becomes  at  once  one  of  the 
greatest  problems  that  confront  the  teacher.  Our 
limitations  prevent  further  discussion  here,  but 
we  hope  not  further  inquiry  and  study  on  the 
part  of  the  reader. 

On  language  as  related  to  muscular  control, 
see  the  latter  part  of  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTEE  XIII. 

MUSCULAR  OR  MOTOR  COXTROL. 

The  nerves  controlling  the  voluntary  muscles 
of  the  body  lie  everywhere  in  pairs,  one  for  the 
right  and  one  for  the  left  side.  Branching  off 
from  the  spinal  cord,  they  divide  and  subdivide 
into  delicate  filaments  that  reach  even  the  mi- 
nutest muscles  of  the  body.  They  parallel  the 
sensory  nerves,  which  carry  information  of  periph- 
eral disturbance  to  the  brain.  Through  them  the 
movements  of  all  the  organs  are  directed.  As  ac- 
curate information  concerning  the  stimuli  that 
arouse  sensation  is  dependent  upon  the  healthy 
and  prompt  action  of  the  sensor  or  afferent  nerves, 
so  intelligent  and  effective  motor  control  is  de- 
pendent upon  similar  conditions  in  the  motor  or 
efferent  nerves.  The  earlier  movements  of  the 
child  are  due  almost  entirely  to  reflex  action, 
many  of  them  serving  useful  ends  in  its  physical 
economy.  Their  automatic  nature  is  easily  shown 
when  the  child  has  reached  the  stage  of  develop- 
ment in  which  it  begins  to  direct  the  same  move- 
ments by  its  own  will,  for  much  of  the  inborn 
skill,  having  served  its  purpose,  then  suddenly  dis- 
appears, and  control  is  regained  only  by  intelligent 

and  patient  practice. 

93 


94  THE  STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

Whatever  may  be  the  mystery  of  connection 
between  the  mind  and  the  nervous  system,  this 
much  is  clear,  that  the  fact  of  such  a  connection 
can  not  he  denied.  It  is  also  clear  that  this  won- 
derful mechanism  of  the  human  frame  becomes 
responsive  to  the  demands  of  the  will  only  through 
education  and  training.  Purely  reflex  impulses 
may  throw  the  head  and  arms  and  body. and  legs 
about  in  a  promiscuous  way,  satisfying  the  phys- 
ical cravings  for  activity,  but  the  putting  of  a 
hand  or  a  foot  in  a  certain  chosen  spot  is  a  very 
different  thing.  "  Making  both  ends  meet  " — that 
is,  grasping  the  toes — for  the  first  time  is  a  great 
feat  in  motor  control.  The  movements  of  the 
facial  muscles  in  taking  food  or  crying  or  smiling 
have  little  of  the  purely  voluntary  element  in  them 
until  they  are  used  for  a  purpose  more  or  less  defi- 
nitely outlining  in  the  mind  of  the  child.  When 
any  movement  comes  clearly  into  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  child  as  of  his  own  origination  and 
direction,  he  has  leaped  beyond  the  bonds  of  the 
mere  animal  and  already  entered  into  the  realms 
of  spiritual  existence;  he  is  already  building  ideals 
and  realizing  them;  the  wisest  man  on  the  earth 
can  do  no  more.  By  these  movements  and  their 
accompanying  sensations  he  gradually  differenti- 
ates himself  from  the  outside  world,  and  discovers 
himself  and  it  as  having  mutually  independent 
existences:  the  one  moving  at  his  will,  the  other 
fixed  and  stable. 

For  lack  of  space  we  can  not  tarry  over  the 
multitude  of  interesting  experiments  in  motor 
control  which  the  child  makes  in  the  first  months 


MUSCULAR  OR  MOTOR  CONTROL.  95 

of  his  life,  though  they  would  throw  much  light 
upon  the  problem  later  on.  A  knowledge  of  the 
details  of  the  structure  of  muscles  in  general  and 
of  their  functions  is  necessary  to  its  proper  appre- 
hension, and  it  might  be  well  to  refresh  the  mem- 
ory a  little  before  proceeding  further.  The  mo- 
tive power  originating  all  muscular  movement  is 
physical  impulse,  which  has  been  well  defined  as 
felt  pressure  to  activity.  That  "  felt  pressure " 
may  arise  wholly  from  the  accumulation  of  sur- 
plus nervous  or  muscular  energy  which  seeks  to 
discharge  itself  in  exercise  of  some  kind  or  as  a 
reflex  movement  in  response  to  some  external 
stimulus,  or  it  may  arise  from  the  presence  of  some 
thought,  some  idea,  in  the  mind  which  awakens 
a  mental  impulse  to  its  realization.  This  mental 
impulse  in  some  magic  way  arouses  a  physical 
impulse,  and  the  condition  for  action  is  at  once 
attained. 

The  purely  physical  origin  of  the  impulse  is, 
of  course,  more  marked  in  the  growing  child  than 
later  in  life.  His  whole  organism  is  set  up  as  with 
compressed  springs.  A  full-grown,  vigorous  man 
is  forced  into  the  little  space  the  child  now  occu- 
pies, and  he  must  expand  to  that  man's  stature 
and  that  man's  adroitness  and  skill.  For  that  pur- 
pose he  eats  and  sleeps  and  exercises;  for  it  he 
crams  every  little  cell  in  .his  body  with  nourish- 
ment until  it  is  alive  with  energy.  No  wonder 
he  rolls  and  runs  and  jumps  and  tumbles  and  pulls 
and  pushes  and  twists  from  the  moment  he  opens 
his  eyes  in  the  mornin.2  until  he  is  put  to  bed  at 
night.    He  can  not  help  it.    He  ought  not  to  help 


96  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

it.  It  is  natural  with  him.  That  is  the  way  he 
grows.  He  is  kneading  himself  as  a  woman  kneads 
dough,  and  for  practically  the  same  purpose.  That 
which  he  eats  must  be  mixed  through  and  through 
him,  losing  itself  in  him  and  becoming  a  part  of 
him.  The  excellence  of  both  bread  and  child  de- 
pends upon  the  thoroughness  of  the  kneading. 
The  energy  with  which  the  child  is  constantly 
charging  thus  fulfills  its  mission. 

Study  the  children  in  your  circle  and  jot  down 
your  conclusions  concerning  the  physical  and  men- 
tal condition  of  those  whose  impulses  to  exercise 
are  freely  indulged  and  of  those  who  are  inclined 
to  exercise  but  little. 

Whether  the  impulse  is  of  physical  or  mental 
origin,  its  direction  and  control  belong  to  the  in- 
tellect. Whether  the  child  is  crawling  or  rolling 
or  walking  or  reaching  out  his  hands  as  he  has 
something  more  or  less  clearly  in  mind  for  which 
he  is  trying  to  reach  or  which  he  is  trying  to  do, 
he  calls  certain  muscles  into  action  which  he 
thinks  will  accomplish  that  end.  The  knowledge 
of  the  muscles  to  use  and  the  skill  to  control 
them  come  through  a  long  course  of  experimenta- 
tion. At  his  first  voluntary  efforts  to  reach  out 
to  something  the  child  bends  over  with  his  whole 
body,  instead  of  extending  his  hand  alone,  often 
losing  his  balance  and  doubling  up  in  a  helpless 
heap.  As  he  tries  to  crawl,  the  same  thing  occurs. 
In  both  cases  certain  instinctive  impulses  to  pro- 
tection throw  out  the  arms  and  hands  and  legs 
and  feet,  one  or  all,  to  little  practical  purpose  at 
the  time  it  may  be,  but  revealing  at  least  vaguely 


MUSCULAR  OR  MOTOR  CONTROL.    97 

to  the  child  their  function  and  use.  A  lew  such 
experiences  add  sufficiently  to  the  child's  knowl- 
edge to  start  him  to  experimenting  with  them, 
and  he  soon  learns  how  to  move  them  independ- 
ently of  each  other,  and  also  how  to  move  them 
together  at  his  will.  Spend  a  short  time  each  day 
for  a  few  weeks  with  a  little  child,  and  see  how 
he  learns  to  suppress  certain  superfluous  and  ob- 
structive movements  and  to  develop  others  that 
serve  his  purpose.  Watch  him  as  he  takes  hold 
of  an  object,  as  a  pencil,  as  he  tries  to  lift  a  spoon- 
ful of  food  to  his  mouth,  as  he  balances  himself 
by  his  chair  and  essays  to  walk,  as  he  attempts 
to  pronounce  a  word  he  hears  you  speak,  as  he  is 
doing  the  multitude  of  little  things  which  his 
ever-changing  moods  suggest  to  him.  Compare  his 
movements  with  those  of  other  children  of  simi- 
lar age,  and,  if  possible,  find  the  reason  for  the 
differences  you  may  discover. 

Your  observations  will  show  you  that  some 
children  are  more  active  than  others;  that  some 
of  the  sluggish  ones  move  with  great  precision, 
while  some  of  the  active  ones  are  always  blunder- 
ing; that  some  use  three  or  four  times  as  much 
energy  in  doing  certain  things  as  others;  that 
some  seem  to  lose  all  control  of  their  muscles  at 
times,  while  others  are  never  disconcerted;  that 
the  movements  of  the  whole  arm  or  the  whole  leg 
are  gradually  broken  up  into  movements  of  the 
forearm,  the  hand,  the  fingers,  the  lower  leg,  the 
foot,  the  toes,  just  as  the  movements  of  the  whole 
body  were  broken  up  into  those  of  its  larger  parts; 
that  with  practice  the  movement  in  all  cases  be- 
10 


98  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

comes  more  and  more  definite;  that  less  and  less 
stimulus  is  required  to  incite  activities  as  control 
becomes  more  complete;  that  the  clearer  the  idea 
in  the  mind  of  the  child  of  what  he  wishes  to  do, 
the  more  readily  he  accomplishes  it;  that  with 
each  repetition  a  movement  is  the  more  easily 
reproduced,  and  soon  becomes  almost  automatic; 
and  that  emotional  and  physical  control  grow  ap- 
proximately together.  For  the  purpose  of  verify- 
ing these  and  discovering  additional  facts,  ask 
the  children  to  thread  a  needle,  draw  a  straight 
line,  walk  a  chalk  line  on  the  floor,  touch  the 
thumb  with  one  finger,  and  then  move  the  other 
fingers  on  the  same  hand  independently,  etc. 

You  never  had  any  doubt  that  muscular  con- 
trol is  to  be  learned  by  every  child,  but  ere  you 
have  half  finished  the  experiments  suggested  you 
have  probably  discovered  that  muscular  control 
may  be  greatly  aided  by  education,  and  also  that 
there  is  much  to  learn  about  conducting  the  opera- 
tion. Not  only  is  the  healthy  and  symmetrical 
development  of  the  child  dependent  upon  it,  but 
his  ability  to  execute  the  varied  and  delicate  move- 
ments demanded  in  the  attainment  of  skill  in  all 
physical  activity.  Grace  in  standing  or  sitting  or 
walking  is  attained  only  by  muscular  control  in 
accordance  with  ideal  standards.  It  comes  in 
many  cases  slowly  and  laboriously,  but  early  and 
intelligent  instruction  will  greatly  facilitate  its 
acquirement.  For  details  consult  some  good  au- 
thority on  physical  exercises  for  children.  This 
is  a  good  place,  however,  to  say  that  no  forcing 
process  will  avail.    Nature  never  gets  in  a  hurry. 


MUSCULAR  OR  MOTOR  CONTROL.  99 

We  can  furnish  conditions;  she  does  the  rest. 
Learn  a  lesson  from  the  fiekls.  Some  of  the  most 
graceful  animals  in  them  were  the  most  ungainly 
in  their  infancy.  Physical  constitution  must  af- 
fect progress  in  physical  control,  and  the  attempt 
so  often  made  to  compel  uniformity  in  children's 
movements  can  but  result  in  distortion  and  medi- 
ocrity. It  is  well  known  that  many  children  are 
easy  and  natural  in  their  movements  until  some 
fatal  day  self-consciousness  suddenly  develops, 
and  the  consequent  embarrassment  sadly  inter- 
feres with  self-control.  A  word  in  sport,  un- 
friendly criticism,  consciousness  of  inferiority  or 
superiority,  slight  physical  indisposition,  failure 
in  something  attempted,  lack  of  confidence  in 
self,  etc.,  are  among  the  causes  producing  it.  I 
once  knew  a  child  who,  because  of  a  mishap  in 
his  first  effort  to  walk,  did  not  attempt  it  again  for 
nearly  a  year.  Another  alarmed  her  parents  be- 
cause after  an  evident  effort  to  talk  at  the  usual 
time  she  remained  dumb  until  nearly  three  years 
of  age.  Imagine  their  relief  when  one  day  she 
broke  out  like  a  magpie,  astounding  them  all  by 
the  accuracy  and  fluency  of  her  utterances!  In 
this  educative  process,  as  in  every  other,  sympa- 
thy and  encouragement  are  two  essentials. 

"VMien  you  reflect  that  gesture,  speech,  draw- 
ing, writing,  vision,  facial  expression,  and  all  man- 
ual dexterity,  in  addition  to  the  movements  al- 
ready mentioned,  depend  upon  perfect  muscular 
control,  its  relation  to  the  art  and  the  artisan  side 
of  life  becomes  clear  enough.  Too  often  physical 
control   means   simply   suppression    of   impulses. 


100  THE  STUDY  OF   THE   CHILD. 

This  is  the  negative  side  only.  Its  positive  and 
practical  side  is  seen  in  every  effort  which  man 
makes  to  accomplish  work,  whether  in  the  way  of 
moving  a  part  or  all  of  himself  or  of  shaping  and 
molding  something  external  to  himself.  There 
are  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  words  in  the 
English  language  alone,  and  yet  in  sound  they  are 
easily  distinguished.  As  each  one  of  them  can 
be  pronounced  only  by  making  its  characteristic 
combination  of  muscular  movements  in  the  vocal 
organs,  the  question  of  motor  control  as  related  to 
language  rises  at  once  to  a  dignity  scarcely  less 
than  that  of  thought  control  itself.  That  the 
child  by  a  few  years'  experimenting  can  place  these 
muscles  under  such  control  as  to  enable  him  to 
make  instantly  the  combination  necessary  to  pro- 
duce a  sound  he  has  just  heard  is  cause  for  per- 
petual wonder.  lie  learns  much  by  pure  imita- 
tion, but  only  the  larger  muscular  movements  in 
speech  can  be  learned  that  way.  All  the  fine 
shades  of  tone  and  volume  and  accent  can  be 
produced  only  as  he  learns  by  experimentation  the 
corresponding  shades  of  muscular  movement. 

Sound  utterance  calls  at  once  into  requisition 
the  delicate  muscles  of  the  vocal  cords,  the  mus- 
cles controlling  the  form  of  the  mouth  and  the 
movements  of  the  lips  and  the  muscles  regulating 
respiration.  Vocal  expression  in  speaking,  read- 
ing, and  singing  is  dependent  upon  the  ease  and 
skill  with  which  all  of  these  muscles  are  con- 
trolled. The  sensitiveness  and  delicacy  of  their 
response  is  in  proportion  to  the  fineness  and  mo- 
bility of  their  structure.     Both  are  attained  by 


MUSCULAR  OR  MOTOR  CONTROL.    101 

patient  and  intelligeut  cultivation.  By  it  the  ear 
pictures  of  certain  sounds  become  so  intimately 
associated  with  their  counterparts,  the  muscular 
pictures,  that  the  presence  of  the  former  in  the 
mind  instantly  and  without  effort  accurately  calls 
back  the  latter.  Successful  voice  culture  always 
has  this  for  its  end.  Faulty  articulation,  stam- 
mering, lisping,  lack  of  force,  unpleasant  quality, 
wrong  pitch,  etc.,  are  generally  due  to  inability 
to  control  properly  the  muscles  named.  The  rem- 
edy has  already  been  named,  but  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  the  fault  may  lie  in  the  ear  pic- 
ture and  not  in  the  muscular  picture.  My  friend. 
Professor  Jones,  tells  me  that  he  frequently  has 
pupils  in  his  classes  who  persist  in  singing  fiat  or 
sharp,  and  that  he  requests  them  not  to  sing  at 
all  until  they  can  sing  the  correct  note.  Some- 
times they  are  silent  for  several  days,  and  all  at 
once  they  sing  in  perfect  accord  with  the  others. 
It  is  probable  that  during  the  interim  they  have 
been  more  or  less  unconsciously  trying  to  produce 
the  corresponding  muscular  movement  as  they 
have  been  correcting  the  ear  picture  of  the  sound. 
In  reading  and  in  singing  by  note,  the  eye  picture 
and  the  muscular  picture  must  be  equally  sug- 
gestive and  interchangeable.  The  sight  of  the 
word  or  note  instantly  sets  the  machinery  in  mo- 
tion to  utter  it.  Long  practice  is  Just  as  necessary 
here  as  in  the  other  case.  This  is  the  explanation 
of  the  inability  of  some  people  to  sing  by  note 
who  readily  sipg  "  by  ear."  The  explanation  is 
scientifically  correct,  for  they  have  learned  to  sing 
by  fitting  their  muscular  movements  to  the  ear 


102  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

and  not  to  the  eye  picture.  It  is  for  the  same 
reason  that  one  person  plays  on  the  violin  or  other 
musical  instrument  by  ear  or  by  eye  (note)  only; 
the  muscles  of  the  hand  and  arm  are  trained  to  re- 
spond to  but  one  class  of  mental  pictures,  and  are 
helpless  in  the  presence  of  the  other. 

Muscular  control  easily  falls  into  grooves,  and 
into  very  narrow  grooves,  too.  The  good  penman 
may  not  be  able  to  do  anything  in  drawing.  He 
may  write  vertically  with  dispatch  and  elegance, 
but  make  a  poor  scrawl  in  "  natural  slant."  A 
good  artist  may  be  a  poor  penman.  A  fluent 
speaker  of  the  German  language  may  never  suc- 
ceed in  pronouncing  an  English  word  correctly. 
One  may  be  able  to  play  beautifully  on  the  piano, 
and  yet  scarcely  play  Old  Hundred  on  the  organ  so 
that  it  will  be  recognized. 

All  physical  education  includes  muscular  con- 
trol. To  secure  the  best  results  for  the  children, 
the  exercises  should  be  both  of  a  class  and  of  an 
individual  character;  the  former  to  meet  gen- 
eral, the  latter,  individual  needs.  Lack  of  ability 
to  perform  certain  movements  may  be  due  to 
weakness  as  well  as  to  lack  of  control.  Certain 
muscles  may  be  behind  their  companions  in  de- 
velopment, and  hence  may  need  special  cultiva- 
tion. 

It  is  not  within  the  province  of  our  plan  to 
enter  into  details  concerning  motor  control  in 
the  various  arts,  however  interesting  the  subject 
might  be.  ^Manual  training  embraces  penmanship, 
drawino-,  modeling,  the  use  of  tools  in  general, 
each  leading  up  to  useful  and  gainful  occupa- 


MUSCULAR  OR  MOTOR  CONTROL.    103 

tions,  requiring  the  ready  command  of  all  the 
voluntary  muscles,  particularly  those  of  the  arms 
and  fingers.  As  success  in  life  is  to  be  so  largely 
dependent  upon  the  deftness  and  endurance  of 
arms  and  fingers,  every  child  is  entitled  to  the  edu- 
cation that  insures  both.  Dexterity  in  any  of  the 
arts  is  best  attained  by  anticipating  them  in  child- 
hood and  youth,  when  the  whole  organism  is  await- 
ing direction,  and  when  it  easily  responds  to 
treatment.  In  later  life  form  and  movement  are 
fixed,  changes  being  made  with  difficulty;  hence 
training  makes  little  progress,  and  rare  skill  sel- 
dom results.  It  is  on  this  account  that  motor 
control  assumes  such  importance  in  childhood;  for 
this  reason  that  methods  of  teaching  the  subjects 
mentioned  so  vitally  affect  the  future  as  well  as 
the  present  well-being  of  the  child.  Movement 
and  muscular  control  are  the  only  things  worth 
striving  for  in  his  earlier  years;  the  finished  prod- 
uct will  come  in  its  proper  time.  All  exercises  in 
penmanship  and  drawing  which  cramp  the  fingers 
or  interfere  with  the  free  movement  of  the  muscles 
do  more  harm  than  good.  In  every  case  the  larger 
and  freer  movements  should  come  first,  the  finer 
and  the  more  restricted  later.  This  is  the  law  of 
all  control.  That  children  in  the  lower  grades 
write  well  is  not  necessarily  a  compliment  to  the 
teacher.  I  have  seen  several  children  who  were 
Ijeautiful  penmen  at  eight  or  ten  years  of  age, 
and  yet  at  twelve  or  fourteen  were  such  scrawlers 
that  they  could  hardly  read  their  own  writing. 
Finger  exercises  on  the  piano,  the  organ,  the  type- 
writer, and  other  instruments  must  be  in  accord 


104  THE  STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

with  the  laws  governing  the  development  of  phys- 
ical control,  as  many  poor  children  have  learned 
to  their  sorrow  and  at  great  expense  of  time  and 
labor. 

We  have  said  that  by  experience  the  proper 
muscular  movements  for  doing  certain  things  be- 
come pictured  in  the  mind  the  same  as  pictures 
furnished  by  the  eye  and  the  ear,  and  that  they 
become  so  intimately  associated  with  one  or  both 
of  the  latter  that  they  mutually  suggest  each 
other.  The  cause  of  this  suggestion  is  found  ii? 
the  fact  that  the  association  has  made  them  parts 
of  the  same  experience,  the  same  whole,  the  same 
picture.  At  first,  the  intellect  and  will  are  re- 
quired to  direct  the  movement,  but  with  repetition 
attention  becomes  less  and  less  necessary,  and 
both  are  left  free  to  think  and  plan  while  the 
movement  goes  on  to  completion.  As  an  illustra- 
tion, I  am  now  writing  the  words  in  this  sentence; 
as  I  start  to  write  each  one  of  them,  I  am  think- 
ing about  what  word  to  write  next,  but  the  mus- 
cular movement  necessary  to  write  each  continues 
"  of  its  own  accord  "  until  the  word  is  finished. 
So  complete  has  become  the  alliance  that  the  self 
in  thought  and  the  self  in  action  are  one  and  the 
same  thing.  This  is  the  ideal  in  all  motor  train- 
ing, particularly  on  the  art  and  the  artisan  side. 
It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  in  learning  to  write 
words  the  eye  picture  is  the  only  one  that  must 
be  clearly  defined.  The  muscular  picture  by 
which  each  is  written  is  just  as  important,  and 
when  the  child  has  made  it  as  fully  a  part  of  him- 
self as  the  eye  picture  he  is  in  no  danger  of  mis- 


MUSCULAR  OR  MOTOR  CONTROL.         105 

spelling  it;  hence  the  importance  of  accuracy  and 
rapidity  on  the  part  of  the  children  as  they  learn 
to  write  words. 

That  muscular  control  is  dependent  upon  the 
condition  of  the  nervous  system  is  easily  seen  in 
any  child;  indeed,  the  organization  of  the  mus- 
cular system  carries  with  it  the  organization  of 
the  nervous  system  also.  Every  vital  function, 
every  activity  of  the  body  is  controlled  and  regu- 
lated by  it.  Destroy  the  nerves,  and  the  life  of 
the  tissue  is  destroyed  also.  Muscular  control 
implies  brain  control  as  well.  To  secure  the  hap- 
piest results  physical  culture,  contrary  to  the 
method  so  generally  in  vogue,  should  begin  at  the 
nerve  centers  and  work  outward.  With  intelligent 
exercise  nerves  grow  in  responsiveness  as  well  as 
in  sensitiveness  and  delicacy.  But  as  the  nervous 
system  is  the  immediate  servant  of  the  mind,  the 
nerve  centers  are  best  reached  through  it.  Dr. 
C.  W.  Emerson  says:  "  Certain  mental  states  pro- 
duce definite  effects  upon  the  vocal  organs.  In- 
duce such  states  of  mind  as  shall  produce  the  de- 
sired effect  in  vocal  expression.  The  mental  states 
operate  directly  through  the  cranial  nerves  upon 
the  vocal  organs,  and  instantaneously  change  their 
activity." 

Feelings  and  will  as  related  to  motor  control 
will  be  considered  in  the  next  two  chapters.  For 
the  relation  of  play,  see  the  chapter  on  that  sub- 
ject. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    FEELINGS. 

The  state  of  the  self  produced  by  the  excita- 
tion of  the  nerves  is  called  sensation.  The  action 
of  the  waves  of  light  produces  the  sensation  of 
sight;  the  waves  of  sound,  the  sensation  of  hear- 
ing, etc.  All  these  sensations  are  called  feel- 
ings. They  are  feelings,  however,  whose  origin 
is  purely  sensuous.  As  was  explained  in  a  former 
chapter,  the  mass  of  physical  feelings  or  sensations 
with  which  the  child  is  constantly  filled  constitutes 
in  large  measure  his  conscious  self.  Feelings  are 
the  internal  side  of  the  self.  They  are  the  self 
alive  internally  vdth  movement.  As  the  pulse- 
beats  are  the  sign  of  the  existence  of  the  physical 
life,  so  the  feelings  are  the  sign  in  consciousness 
of  the  existence  of  the  mental  life.  They  are  al- 
ways forcing  themselves  into  consciousness  as  a 
whole,  making  the  tone  or  temperament  of  the 
child,  and  as  individuals  demanding  particular  at- 
tention to  the  exclusion  of  others.  Feelings  are 
purely  mental  states  in  distinction  from  mental 
activities.  These  "  states  "  are,  however,  internal 
activities.  They  bear  in  a  general  way  the  same 
relation  to  the  mental  activities  of  thought  and 
will  that  cellular  activities  do  to  muscular  activi- 
106 


THE  PEELINGS.  107 

ties.  Without  the  first  in  either  case  tlie  other 
could  not  arise. 

The  second  class  of  feelings  is  called  emotions. 
They  are  produced  hy  the  presence  of  some 
thought  in  the  mind.  Their  origin  is  wholly 
mental.  They  accompany  all  intellectual  activity 
and  owe  their  characteristics  to  it  as  sensations 
owe  their  characteristics  to  the  nature  of  the  phys- 
ical stimulus.  As  some  sensations  are  pleasurahle 
and  others  painful,  so  also  are  the  emotions.  Both 
get  their  agreeable  or  disagreeable  character  from 
their  harmony  or  lack  of  harmony  with  the  self. 
If  in  harmony,  satisfaction  and  pleasure  result; 
if  out  of  harmony,  the  opposite.  Sensations  pre- 
cede the  thought,  and  are  that  out  of  which  the 
mind  gets  meaning  or  thought.  Emotions  rise 
as  the  idea  comes,  and  may  be  said  to  follow  it. 
Hold  an  apple  before  a  child;  the   sensation  of  y 

sight  occurs,  and  he  interprets  it  as  that  of  an 
apple;  immediately  an  emotion  of  pleasure  arises. 
Bring  him  some  bitter  medicine;  following  the 
sensation  and  thought  of  what  it  is  comes  a  feel- 
ing of  displeasure.  He  hears  some  one  speak,  and. 
recognizes  the  soimd  as  that  of  mother's  voice; 
emotions  of  pleasure  fill  his  soul.  He  hears  a 
bark,  and  recognizes  it  as  that  of  a  dog  that  has 
bitten  him;  fear  at  once  possesses  him.  He  is  ex- 
pecting pudding  for  dinner,  and  mother  brings 
him  pie  instead;  disappointment  possesses  him  as 
he  sees  what  it  is.  In  all  these  cases  sensations 
only  would  result  had  he  not  given  them  meaning. 
Fmotions  followed  only  after  the  sensations  were 
interpreted. 


108  THE   STUDY   OP   TDE   CHILD. 

Sensations  always  mingle  more  or  less  with 
emotions,  each  enhancing  the  pleasure  or  pain  of 
the  other  according  as  they  happen  to  be  in  or 
out  of  accord.  The  sound  of  a  voice  is  more  pleas- 
ing to  the  child  as  there  mingles  with  it  the  emo- 
tion arising  from  the  discovery  that  it  is  mother's 
voice.  The  bark  of  the  dog  suddenly  becomes 
harsh  as  the  child  discovers  that  it  is  that  of  the 
biting  dog  instead  of  his  own  little  pet,  as  he  had 
supposed.  A  keepsake  is  more  gratifying  to  the 
eye  than  its  mate  of  the  same  material  and  form 
because  of  the  emotions  it  begets.  For  this  reason 
childre,n's  emotions  and  interests  are  aroused  most 
■  readily  by  poetry  and  music.  The  jingle  of  words, 
the  rapid  recurrence  of  rhythm  and  rhyme,  and 
the  abrupt  changes  in  movement,  pitch,  and  vol- 
ume excite  sensations,  sustain  the  attention,  and 
quicken  the  emotions.  Hey  diddle,  diddle,  the  cat 
and  the  fiddle,  has  far  more  pleasure  and  interest 
for  the  child  than  the  cat  and  the  violin.  RocTc-a- 
hye  bahy  upon  the  tree  top  would  have  died  the  day 
it  was  born  had  there  been  only  the  motion  of 
ordinary  prose  in  it. 

Children's  emotions  usually  reveal  themselves 
in  nervous  activity  of  some  kind.  It  does  not 
take  an  expert  to  read  a  child's  feelings  in  the 
expression  on  his  face,  the  light  of  his  eye,  or 
the  movements  of  his  hands  and  arms.  Only  as 
a  child  learns  to  dissemble  can  he  repress  the 
revelation.  In  some  children,  as  you  will  see  by 
observation,  the  sympathy  between  the  nervous 
system,  both  vegetative  and  cerebro-spinal,  is 
much  more  intimate  and  responsive  than  in  others. 


THE  FEELINGS.  109 

A  little  nephew  of  mine  had  such  a  telltale  coun- 
tenance that  even  the  slightest  shades  of  emotion 
were  constantly  expressing  themselves  in  the  eve^- 
changing  lights  and  shadows  that  played  over  his 
face.  His  complexion  was  as  pure  and  clear  as 
truth  itself,  and  the  freshness  of  each  returning 
blush  made  me  feel  that  I  was  nearer  the  actual 
soul  of  the  child  than  I  had  ever  been  before. 
Wonder,  pleasure,  doubt,  confidence,  fear,  anger, 
surprise,  humor,  embarrassment,  annoyance,  dis- 
appointment, weariness,  supplanted  each  other  in 
quick  succession,  outrivaling  in  variety  and  beauty 
the  rarest  combinations  of  tints  that  the  most  cost- 
ly kaleidoscopes  unfold.  Discover  how  many  of 
the  children  in  your  circle  are  "  so  nervous " 
that  they  become  perceptibly  or  violently  agitated 
as  any  of  the  above-named  emotions  arise;  note 
how  the  agitation  expresses  itself.  Classify  the  re- 
sults in  each  case,  and,  if  possible,  discover  the 
cause.  In  fright,  some  will  blush  and  some  will 
blanch.  Why?  Discover  how  the  emotions  affect 
appetite,  digestion,  respiration,  circulation,  sleep, 
motor  control  in  general,  etc. 

In  your  investigations  you  -^-ill  find  that  the 
well-balanced  emotional  nature  is  usiially  a  sign 
of  a  healthy,  well-balanced  physical  organism,  re- 
affirming the  idea  of  their  interdependence  and 
emphasizing  the  importance  of  everything  that  has 
been  said  concerning  the  care  and  development  of 
the  body  of  the  child.  You  will  doubtless  also 
discover  that  you  have  often  dealt  unjustly  with 
children  because  of  your  lack  of  knowledge  of  this 
fact;  that  often  the  very  evil  you  had  been  try- 


110  THE  STUDY   OP  THE  CHILD. 

ing  to  cure  had  but  been  grievously  aggravated  by 
the  methods  you  had  pursued.  Experiment  now 
in  controlling  the  emotions  of  the  children  by  giv- 
ing them  appropriate  things  to  think  about,  and 
note  how  promptly  physical  agitation  subsides  as 
some  gentler  emotion  replaces  a  violent  or  an  un- 
pleasant one. 

]\Iany  interesting  reports  have  been  published 
on  inquiries  made  concerning  the  presence  and 
origin  of  the  different  emotions  in  the  child,  and 
you  will  be  pleased  to  make  similar  investigations 
in  your  circle.  They  seem  to  show  in  a  general 
way  that  many  children  are  entirely  devoid  of 
fear  even  after  they  enter  their  teens,  and  that 
a  small  per  cent  grow  into  manhood  and  woman- 
hood without  knowing  what  fear  is  save  by  hear- 
say; others  display  fear  when  but  a  few  months 
old.  The  emotion  of  fear  is  a  stranger  to  some 
children  until  a  serious  accident  has  happened 
to  them  or  their  friends,  and  then  they  become 
very  timid.  Some  fear  animals,'  others  ghosts, 
others  burglars,  others  thunder  and  lightning, 
others  father  and  mother,  others  a  steam  engine, 
a  bridge,  water,  death,  a  gun,  ridicule,  darkness, 
etc.  One  colored  girl  reports  to  a  friend  of  mine 
that  she  fears  nothing  except  a  feather!  Each 
of  the  emotions  afford  abnndant  data  in  similar 
variety.  They  all  throw  a  flood  of  light  u])on  the 
course  to  bo  pursued  in  the  care  and  management 
of  the  child. 

You  are  referred  to  works  more  advanced  for 
a  full  discussion  of  the  various  classes  of  emotions. 
Emotions  may  get  their  characteristics  from  the  re- 


1 


THE  FEELINGS.  HI 

lation  of  the  experience  to  the  present  time;  those 
arising  from  a  present  experience  may  be  called 
immediate;  from  recalling  a  past  experience,  retro- 
spective; from  looking  forward  to  a  future  experi- 
ence, prospective.  They  may  get  their  general 
characteristics  from  the  objects  awakening  them, 
as  personal  and  impersonal.  The  personal  emo- 
tions include  the  social,  moral,  and  religious  emo- 
tions; the  impersonal  include  the  intellectual  and 
Eesthetic.  Some  of  these  will  be  treated  in  inde- 
pendent chapters. 

The  third  great  class  of  feelings  is  the  affec- 
tions, or  the  loves  and  likes.  Affections  are  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  two  preceding  classes  in 
that  they  are  feelings  which  result  from  the  new 
adjustment  of  the  self  toward  objects  which  have 
produced  pleasing  sensations  or  emotions.  The 
self  naturally  goes  out  in  a  kindly  flow  of  feeling 
toward  that  which  produces  either.  Emotions  and 
sensations  are  not  thus  projected.  Love  must  have 
an  object.  Likes  and  loves  are  always  pleasurable, 
reacting  upon  the  self  and  intensifying  the  pleas- 
ure of  the  emotions  of  which  they  may  be  regarded 
as  the  overflow.  Dislikes  and  hates  are  the  result 
of  painful  sensations  and  emotions,  and  the  flow 
of  feelings  is  away  from  rather  than  toward  that 
which  causes  them.  Likes  and  loves  identify  the 
self  and  the  object  in  interest.  Dislikes  and  hates 
hold  them  apart.  Likes  and  loves  wish  well  and 
take  pleasure  in  the  well-being  of  their  objects  as 
they  do  of  themselves.  Dislikes  and  hates  wish  ill 
and  take  pleasure  in  the  misfortunes  of  their  ob- 
jects— persons  or  things. 


112  THE   STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

Children  retjpond  in  loves  and  likes  with  sur- 
prising promptness.  They  very  early  show  a  pref- 
erence for  the  nurse  who  handles  them  so  tender- 
ly and  hums  to  them  so  softly,  as  well  as  for  the 
food  that  gratifies  their  palate  and  allays  their 
hunger.  ]\Iany  a  mother  has  found  it  extremely 
difheult  to  displace  a  nurse  in  the  affections  of 
her  child,  because  the  bias  had  already  been  given 
before  she  was  able  to  give  him  her  attention.  In 
a  similar  way  she  finds  it  almost  impossible  to  get 
him  to  eat  a  different  kind  of  food  from  that  which 
he  has  already  learned  to  like.  Subterfuges  and 
imitations  with  no  end  of  coaxing  are  necessary 
in  many  cases  to  overcome  antipathy  for  other 
foods.  A  few  sticks  of  candy,  a  merry  romp,  a 
buggy  ride,  a  kind  word  in  time  of  need,  will,  as 
any  one  knows,  quickly  kindle  a  child's  love  for 
the  giver.  That  children's  affections  are  very 
fickle  and  are  easily  transferred  is  probably  due 
as  much  to  lack  of  memory  in  the  new  pleasure 
as  to  anything  else.  Where  the  kindly  treatment 
has  been  of  long  continuance,  however,  the  affec- 
tion even  in  very  young  children  is  not  so  easily 
disturbed  as  many  people  imagine. 

If  you  will  make  inquiries  concerning  the  chil- 
dren in  your  circle,  you  will  find  many  interest- 
ing facts  pertaining  to  the  origin,  development, 
and  extinction  of  likes  and  loves.  You  will  see 
on  what  slight  provocation  an  affection  may  spring 
up  and  how  intense  it  may  be  for  a  few  days  or 
weeks,  and  then  how  suddenly  it  may  disappear. 
In  some  cases  the  cause  of  the  affection  may  be 
discovered  at  once,  and  in  others  no  special  reason 


THE  FEELINGS.  113 

may  show  itself.  Be  sure  to  note  the  things  which 
most  easily  arouse  the  alfections  of  children,  and 
what  changes  take  place  in  their  preferences  as 
they  grow  older.  Some  children  will  be  found 
to  possess  little  or  no  affection  in  the  true  sense 
of  the  word,  while  others  respond  generously  to 
every  force  that  touches  them  kindly. 

Loves  may  be  classified  according  to  their  ob- 
jects, as  love  of  kindred,  love  of  friends,  love  of 
home,  love  of  country,  love  of  society,  love  of  prop- 
erty, love  of  power,  love  of  action,  love  of  knowl- 
edge, love  of  truth,  etc.,  each  having  a  variety  of 
subdivisions  which  may  readily  be  discovered  by 
you.  The  undue  preponderance  of  one  of  these  or 
the  absence  of  any  one  of  them  in  a  child  should 
raise  at  once  an  inqiiiry  concerning  its  cause. 

The  fourth  class  of  feelings  is  called  desires. 
Your  investigations  have  shown  you  that  the  chil- 
dren not  only  love  that  which  contributes  to  their 
pleasure  and  happiness,  but  that  an  impulse  to 
possession,  to  the  assurance  of  the  continuance  of 
that  object  in  its  present  relations  to  them,  is  also 
usually  present  in  some  degree. 

Such  an  impulse  is  called  a  desire.  Love  re- 
sponds more  or  less  blindly  to  its  stimulus,  which 
is  also  true  of  desires  in  the  earlier  stages  of  the 
child's  life.  Then  its  impulsive  character  is  more 
prominent;  but  later  its  object  is  selected  with 
some  discrimination,  and  its  intellectual  side  ap- 
pears. On  account  of  the  close  relationship  of 
the  desires  and  affections,  the  classes  of  both  are 
practically  the  same.  Appetites  are  physical  de- 
sires. Desires  are  satisfied  in  the  sensation  or 
11 


114  THE   STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

emotion  which  their  gratification  begets.  By  ex- 
perience the  child  learns  what  objects  or  classes 
of  objects  produce  certain  sensations  and  emotions, 
and  he  very  early  begins  the  regulation  of  his  de- 
sires in  accordance  with  that  knowledge.  Such 
regulation  is  naturally  directed  to  physical  desires 
first,  and  next  to  those  of  a  higher  order.  Desires 
Avhose  gratification  produce  pain,  or  less  pleasure 
than  others,  are  repressed,  or  subordinated  to  those 
whose  satisfaction  insures  him  greater  enjoyment. 
He  suppresses  a  desire  for  the  time  being,  that  its 
gratification  may  be  more  complete  in  the  future. 
Gradually  physical  desires  and  those  relating  to 
the  self  alone  become  subordinated  to  the  moral 
desires  and  to  those  affecting  the  pleasure  and 
happiness  of  his  fellows.  This  process  of  organiz- 
ing the  desires  and  its  reactive  effect  on  the  char- 
acter of  the  child  will  be  treated  further  in  the 
chapter  on  the  Will. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

THE    WILL    AXD    ITS    FUNCTIONS. 

Motor  control  has  already  been  explained. 
The  physical  impulse  furnishes  the  motive  power 
for  all  muscular  activity.  As  there  is  no  motion 
in  the  steam  engine  without  steam,  so  there  is  no 
motion  in  the  body  without  the  impulse.  As  the 
engineer  directs  the  steam  in  the  engine,  so  the 
intellect  guides  the  power  arising  in  the  impulse 
to  the  execution  of  certain  specific  movements. 
These  two  elements,  physical  impulse  and  intel- 
lect, constitute  the  will  in  all  voluntary  bodily 
activity. 

Will  is  simply  the  self  originating  and  direct- 
ing its  oivn  activities.  The  initiatory  movement 
is  always  found  in  impulse;  the  selecting  and  di- 
recting, in  the  intellect.  The  intellect  fixes  upon 
some  end  to  reach,  some  particular  movement  to 
execute,  some  work  to  perform,  and  regulates  the 
motive  power  of  the  impulse  in  such  a  way  as  to 
accomplish  it  effectively. 

The  body  is  under  control  when  it  responds 
easily  and  promptly  to  the  demands  which  the  in- 
tellect makes  upon  it.  This  concrete  will  action, 
which  begins  in  a  very  simple  way  with  the  child, 
gradually  organizes  and  brings  under  control  the 

115 


116  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

entire  locomotive  machinery  of  the  body,  includ- 
ing impulses  and  the  muscular  and  nervous  sys- 
tems. While  he  is  thus  gaining  control  of  his 
physical  powers,  his  mental  impulses  are  also  slow- 
ly rising  into  consciousness  and  re-enforcing  the 
physical  impulses.  The  latter  diiferentiate  into 
well-defined  appetites  or  physical  desires,  while  the 
former  as  clearly  objectify  and  become  distinct 
mental  desires.  So  largely  are  bodily  and  mental 
activities  moving  together  in  the  earlier  years  of 
the  child's  life  that  the  control  of  the  former 
means  practically  also  the  control  of  the  latter. 
His  mental  life  differentiates  from  his  physical 
life  very  slowly.  Each  serves  and  strengthens  the 
other  as  the  former  is  attaining  that  high  posi- 
tion in  which  it  alone  is  to  be  master.  In  the 
process  physical  appetites  and  desires  gradually 
become  subordinated  to  mental  desires,  and  pru- 
dential and  moral  control  begin  to  define. 

Desires  are  impulses  directed  toward  objects 
which  it  is  thought  will  give  pleasure  or  profit. 
Impulses,  as  pure  felt  pressure,  are  not  consciously 
directed  toward  any  object  or  class  of  objects. 
Through  experience  the  child  recognizes  in  a  gen- 
eral way  at  least  the  character  of  the  impulse,  and 
recalls  objects  which  once  satisfied  it.  Naturally 
he  sets  them  up  for  consideration,  and  the  impel- 
lent force  carries  him  toward  one,  then  toward  an- 
other, possibly  toward  all,  often  producing  puz- 
zling confusion.  This  is  what  is  called  confiict  or 
clash  of  impulses  or  desires.  The  child  determines 
the  question  of  preference  by  estimating  the  vary- 
ing abilities  of  the  different  objects  to  satisfy  the 


THE  WILL  AND   ITS  FUNCTIONS.         117 

generic  impulse  out  of  which  the  desires  have 
risen.  He  selects  that  one  which  in  his  judgment 
possesses  the  greatest  power,  and  all  of  the  impel- 
lent forces  press  toward  it,  the  different  impulses 
and  desires  yielding  at  once  to  that  one  which  was 
in  the  line  of  the  choice  just  made.  Many  things 
affect  the  estimate  and  the  choice;  the  child's  for- 
mer experiences,  his  education,  his  environments, 
his  needs,  the  advice  of  others,  etc. 
"^  The  choice  once  made,  the  desire  is  re-enforced 
by  the  new  impulse  resulting  from  the  conscious 
possibility  of  satisfaction,  and  thus  motive  power 
for  its  realization  is  supplied.  In  all  the  move- 
ment thus  far  feeling  and  intellect  have  been  re- 
acting upon  each  other  for  the  purpose  of  fixing 
definitely  upon  the  end  to  be  attained  and  in  clear- 
ing the  deck  for  action.  These  things  being  done, 
it  now  remains  for  the  mind  to  select  the  means 
by  which  the  end  is  to  be  realized.  The  factors 
that  control  the  selection  of  ends  also  control  the 
selection  of  means.  Suppose  the  desire  be  for  a 
drink :  a  glass  of  water  being  near,  the  impulse 
is  directed  through  the  muscles  of  the  arm  for 
bringing  the  glass  to  the  mouth.  If  it  be  to  di- 
vide an  apple,  the  impulse,  under  similar  direction 
in  each  case,  moves  the  hand  to  the  pocket  for  a 
knife,  both  hands  open  it,  and  both  are  used  in 
performing  the  operation.  If  it  be  to  utter  a  cer- 
tain word,  the  impulse  is  directed  through  the  ap- 
propriate muscles.  This  final  executive  act  of  tbe 
will  is  called  volition. 

The  above  analysis  shows  that  there  are  two 
clearly  defined  functions  of  the  will:  they  are  the 


118  THE  STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

idealizing  and  realizing  functions.  The  will  sets 
up  the  ends  to  be  attained,  and  proceeds  to  attain 
them  also.  In  the  above  illustrations,  as  in  all 
motor  control,  the  realizing  function  is  dependent 
upon  the  readiness  with  which  the  physical  or- 
ganism responds  to  the  directive  force  of  the  mind. 
The  object  of  manual  training  in  all  its  branches 
is  to  develop  such  perfect  harmony  of  action  be- 
tween the  idealizing  and  realizing  activities  or 
functions  of  the  will  that  little  or  no  attention 
need  be  given  to  the  latter.  As  skill  in  any 
line  approximates  perfection,  the  movement  be- 
comes so  nearly  automatic  that  muscular  effort  is 
practically  reduced  to  nothing.  The  mind  is  thus 
left  free  to  attend  to  the  formation  and  retention 
of  the  ideal  which  is  realizing.  The  tool  of  the 
expert  graver  and  the  nimble  fingers  of  the  mod- 
eler alike  work  out  unerringly  the  invisible  lines 
which  the  mind  busily  runs  for  them. 

The  physical  organism,  however,  is  not  the 
only  part  of  himself  which  the  child  must  con- 
trol. Attention,  as  explained  in  a  former  chapter, 
is  not  the  concentration  of  muscular  or  nervous 
energy,  but  of  the  mental  activities.  Every  volun- 
tary act  of  the  mind  is  just  as  much  an  act  of  the 
will  as  is  every  voluntary  physical  movement. 
Notion  building,  judgment,  recollection,  thinking, 
etc.,  are  possible  only  to  him  who  controls  these 
activities  as  fvilly  as  he  controls  the  various  mus- 
cles of  the  body.  It  requires  an  act  of  the  will  to 
distinguish  between  a  pen  and  its  holder,  to  put 
a  dog  and  his  collar  together  in  a  mental  picture, 
to  determine  that  one  orange  is  larger  than  an- 


THE  WILL  iND   ITS  FUNCTIONS.         II9 

other,  to  rebuild  the  picture  of  a  bird  seen  yester- 
day, to  discover  the  cause  of  the  withering  of  the 
rose  in  the  vase  on  the  table,  to  get  the  meaning 
of  the  line — 

Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets. 

Mental  impulses  and  desires  are  suppressed, 
subordinated,  and  organized  in  the  same  manner 
as  the  physical,  and  the  process  needs  little  further 
explanation.  One  of  the  principal  things  to  re- 
member is  that  time  and  practice  are  required  in 
both  cases.  It  is  the  function  of  physical  and 
manual  training  to  develop  and  perfect  control 
and  skill  in  every  bodily  organ.  It  is  the  function 
of  education  on  the  mental  side  to  accomplish 
the  same  thing  for  the  mental  activities.  Freedom 
in  the  use  of  the  latter  is  just  as  essential  as  in  the 
use  of  the  former.  The  child  needs  to  be  trained 
so  that  he  can  do  more  than  simply  turn  his  at- 
tention to  a  subject  to  the  exclusion  of  others.  He 
must  attain  to  that  poAver  which  will  enable  him 
to  bring  at  once  to  its  comprehension  and  solu- 
•  tion  the  whole  of  himself,  his  past  knowledge,  his 
•past  experiences,  his  accumulated  strength. 

Control  as  related  to  the  will  and  as  thus  far 
considered  merely  places  the  child  in  possession 
of  himself  as  he  may  wish  to  serve  immediate  ends. 
He  is  now,  as  it  were,  familiar  with  his  tools,  and 
knows  how  to  use  them.  A  little  inquiry,  how- 
ever, will  show  that  another  class  of  ends  has  been 
building  up  out  of  his  experience.  The  mastery 
of  his  physical  powers  is  to  serve  a  higher  purpose 
than  the  immediate  gratification  of  his  impulses, 


120  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

the  awakening  of  pleasurable  sensations  and  emo- 
tiotis.  The  skillful  use  of  his  mental  faculties 
has  a  higher  mission  than  the  mere  satisfaction 
which  comes  from  their  exercise.  The  economic 
value  of  both  has  already  been  suggested.  Con- 
trol saves  energy  and  time.  It  insures  definiteness 
and  accuracy.  It  multiplies  vastly  the  amount  of 
work  which  may  be  accomplished.  Learning  from 
his  experiences,  the  child  sees  not  only  that  one 
object  or  action  may  serve  him  better  than  an- 
other, but  that  one  of  two  or  three  or  many  may 
in  the  end  bring  him  all  of  the  profit  and  enjoy- 
ment that  all  the  others  could  have  brought.  In 
other  words,  he  learns  not  only  the  way  to  accom- 
plish a  certain  end  with  the  least  expenditure  of 
mental  and  ph^'sical  force,  but  he  learns  also  to 
select  an  end  which  will  be  the  most  fruitful  in 
results. 

Control  thus  keeps  advantage  constantly  in 
view.  It  makes  one  end  serve  as  a  means  to  an- 
other. It  denies  itself  present  gratification  for 
future  gratification  and  profit;  or,  better,  it  finds 
present  enjoyment  in  the  anticipation  of  a  future 
enjoyment  which  it  sets  machinery  in  motion  to  ' 
insure.  Control  organizes  itself  upon  a  prudential 
basis.  Everything  that  the  child  or  the  man  does 
is  determined  beforehand  by  weighing  its  advan- 
tage or  disadvantage.  He  buttons  up  his  coat 
collar  to  keep  from  getting  a  sore  throat;  he  saves 
his  pennies  that  he  may  buy  a  ball;  he  learns  his 
letters  that  he  may  be  able  to  read;  he  is  a  good 
boy  that  he  may  win  his  mother's  approbation;  he 
exercises  that  he  mav  grow  strong;  he  talks  re- 


THE  WILL  AND  ITS  FUNCTIONS         121 

spectfuUy  to  a  larger  bo}-  that  he  may  not  catch  a 
threshing;  he  carries  in  a  large  boxful  of  wood 
in  the  afternoon  that  he  may  not  be  compelled 
to  go  out  in  the  dark  after  more;  he  treats  his 
playmates  kindly  that  they  may  love  him;  he  sows 
that  he  may  reap.  In  all  of  this  he  gradually 
learns  how  one  thing  depends  upon  others,  and 
organizes  all  these  means  so  that  they  mutually 
contribute  toward  higher-  or  more  far-reaching  ad- 
vantage. He  becomes  somewhat  of  a  business 
man,  working  for  pay,  making  or  raising  things 
to  sell,  buying  and  selling,  studying  the  laws  of 
production  and  of  trade,  developing  insight,  cau- 
tion, self-denial,  confidence. 

The  discussion  thus  far  has  probably  made  will 
and  control  sufficiently  clear  to  guide  you  more 
fully  in  your  observations  with  the  children.  Veri- 
fy each  of  the  statements  concerning  the  origin 
and  growth  of  the  will.  Discover  how  largely 
the  younger  children  are  creatures  of  impulse,  and 
what  forces  are  each  day  conspiring  to  their  con- 
trol. What  is  the  connection  of  the  feelings  in 
general  with  the  various  kinds  of  control?  If 
any  of  the  children  have  "  weak  wills,"  what  is 
the  cause?  Why  do  some  children  have  good  phys- 
ical and  intellectual  control  and  yet  lack  pru- 
dence? Why  do  others  possess  the  latter  and  lack 
the  others?  How  much  may  be  attributed  to  poor 
health  or  to  home  government?  How  much  of 
the  control  is  due  to  outside  pressure  as  the  in- 
centive of  some  reward  or  the  fear  of  punishment? 
How  much  is  due  to  the  child's  own  desire  and 
ability  to  realize  the  ideals  for  himself?     What 


122  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

physical  obstacles  seem  to  be  in  the  way?  How 
far  is  the  control  natural  and  spontaneous?  Why 
are  some  children  so  far  behind  others?  Are  any 
of  them  possessed  of  evil  spirits,  or  do  they  sim- 
ply need  some  loving,  sympathetic,  painstaking 
friend  to  assist  them  in  their  efforts  at  getting 
control  of  themselves? 

This  last  question  suggests  the  relationship 
which  wills  bear  to  one  another.  They  are  always 
affecting  one  another  for  better  or  for  w^orse.  The 
far-reaching  influence  of  a  child's  playmates, 
though  unconsciously  directed,  is  known  to  every- 
body. The  educational  process  as  a  whole  is  well 
defined  as  ihe  influencing  of  one  will  hy  another  in 
a  more  or  less  methodical  way  in  order  to  assist  it 
to  an  ideal  development.  The  education  of  the  will, 
the  development  of  control  in  its  many-sided 
senses,  is  the  real  end  and  aim  of  all  education. 
The  will  of  the  child  may  be  influenced  in  a  purely 
infectious  way  or  by  intelligent  counsel  and  as- 
sistance. It  can  not  be  accomplished  by  a  few 
spasmodic  efforts  from  time  to  time,  but  only  by 
that  same  slow  and  regular  process  by  which  Na- 
ture produces  all  of  her  rarest  creations. 

In  the  attainment  of  control  the  same  law 
holds  as  in  all  other  mental  activity.  Each  effort 
reacts  upon  the  child,  making  him  stronger  for 
the  succeeding  experience.  The  gain  each  time 
may  be  imperceptible,  but  at  the  end  of  a  series 
will  manifest  itself  clearly  enough.  In  that  way 
he  goes  on  from  strength  to  strength,  choosing 
more  intelligently,  more  promptly,  more  accurate- 
ly; executing  more  easily,  more  skillfully,  more 


THE  WILL  AND   ITS  FUNCTIONS.         123 

effectively;  becoming  more  resourceful,  more  de- 
liberate, more  self-reliant.  The  reaction  upon  the 
self  affects  all  sides  of  the  child's  emotional  na- 
ture, and  gives  that  balance  and  poise  to  the  char- 
acter which  insures  self-possession  and  intelligent 
action  even  under  unexpected  and  trying  diffi- 
culties. 

Will  reaches  its  highest  function  in  moral  con- 
trol— that  is,  control  of  the  self  in  accord  with  an 
ideal  of  right.  Pure  advantage  as  a  motive  here 
yields  to  a  higher  desire — that  of  right  doing. 
Some  children  very  early  distinguish  between 
right  and  wrong;  others  long  confuse  the  idea  of 
advantage  with  that  of  right.  They  are  apt  to 
think  that  whatever  gives  them  or  gives  their 
friends  pleasure  is  right,  and  that  whatever  gives 
them  pain  is  wrong.  All  are  moved  quickly  by 
the  incentive  of  advantage,  particularly  if  the  ad- 
vantage is  immediate,  but  the  incentive  to  be  true 
affects  many  of  them  very  slowly.  The  child  nat- 
urally thinks  more  about  getting  and  having  than 
about  doing  and  being.  The  general  movement  by 
which  moral  control  is  obtained  is  the  same  as  that 
just  explained  in  prudential  control.  Tts  further 
discussion  will  be  found  in  the  chapter  on  Manners 
and  Morals. 


CHAPTEE    XVI. 

THE    INTELLECT   AND   ITS    FUNCTIONS. — PERCEP- 
TION,   MEMORY,    AND    IMAGINATION. 

Consciousness,  apperception,  and  attention 
have  been  defined  and  explained.  They  are  gen- 
eral functions  of  the  intellect,  entering  as  they  do 
more  or  less  into  all  mental  activity.  It  remains 
to  examine  the  special  functions  of  perception, 
memory,  imagination,  conception,  judgment,  and 
reasoning.  The  treatment  of  each  must  necessarily 
be  brief. 

Perception  is  the  act  of  getting  knotvledge  of 
individual  objects  present  to  the  senses.  It  is  the 
initial  stage  in  all  apperception.  It  tells  us  sim- 
ply what  a  thing  is  as  present  before  us;  gives  us 
its  form,  color,  texture,  material,  weight,  surface, 
parts,  movements — summing  all  up  in  a  mental 
picture  whose  wider  relations  and  fuller  meanings 
are  discovered  by  apperception  proper  or  by  com- 
parison and  reasoning.  An  object  is  lying  by 
my  paper  as  I  write.  Through  perception  I  dis- 
cover a  handle,  its  shape,  and  the  material  out  of 
which  it  is  made;  a  long  blade  is  attached  at  one 
end  and  two  small  blades  at  the  other.  Though 
I  may  not  know  its  name,  I  have  the  picture  of 
a  knife  clearly  defined  in  my  mind.  The  knowl- 
124 


THE  INTELLECT  AND  ITS   FUNCTIONS.  125 

edge  of  any  or  of  all  of  the  parts  together  is  called 
perception,  and  yet  you  readily  see  that  more  or 
less  of  my  past  experience  has  gone  into  the 
building  up  of  the  picture  and  given  it  the  mean- 
ing it  now  possesses;  in  so  far  as  this  is  true,  there 
is  a  suggestion  of  apperception — that  is,  a  percep- 
tion to  which  has  been  added  a  meaning  greater 
than  that  which  lies  in  the  object  unrelated  to  any 
past  experience.  A  second  look  at  the  knife  shows 
me  that  it  is  mine;  that  it  is  a  valuable  knife; 
that  it  is  of  modern  make;  that  it  is  fit  for  cer- 
tain kinds  of  work  only;  all  this  and  much  more 
is  apperceived.  I  once  saw  a  lady  alight  from 
a  train  and  fall  into  the  arms  of  a  company 
awaiting  her.  All  were  in  tears  and  were  dressed 
in  deep  black.  Perception  gave  me  this  knowl- 
edge. Apperception  told  me  that  there  were  sor- 
row and  mourning  and  death  and  broken  hearts 
and  vacant  chairs.  On  the  wall  is  a  small  paint- 
ing. Through  perception  I  get  the  form  of  a 
house,  of  leafless  trees,  of  broken  fences,  of  alter- 
nations of  dark  and  light  colors  stretching  away 
over  and  beyond  the  house,  of  a  round  white  spot 
above,  of  blotches  of  white  paint  covering  the 
roof  of  the  house  and  hiding  the  earth  from  view. 
Through  apperception  I  know  that  it  is  winter, 
that  it  is  midnight  and  cold  and  lonely  and  deso- 
late. Perception,  in  a  word,  tells  us  what  things 
present  are  and  apperception  tells  what  they  mean. 
The  educated  and  the  uneducated  perceive  things 
about  alike,  but  the  educated  and  the  experi- 
enced apperceive  far  more  in  everything  they  meet 
than  the  others. 


126  THE  STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

The  laws  of  association  and  dissociation  apply 
to  perception  as  well  as  to  apperception.  Percep- 
tion locates  objects  in  time  and  space,  giving  them 
relations  to  one  another  and  to  the  self.  The 
process  of  distinguishing  objects  from  one  another 
and  of  noting  the  various  elements  that  compose 
them  and  the  characteristics  peculiar  to  them,  to- 
gether with  their  resemblances,  is  of  the  utmost 
importance  in  the  child's  life.  Its  value  in  the 
intellectual  life  depends  primarily  upon  its  ac- 
curacy and,  secondarily,  upon  its  rapidity  and 
many-sidedness.  Sluggishness  of  action  and  nar- 
rowness of  vision  must  ever  debar  the  child  from 
attaining  to  a  wide  knowledge  of  things.  The 
mental  side  of  all  knowledge  gained  directly 
through  the  senses  is  perception,  and  much  of  the 
discussion  concerning  their  functions  and  their 
culture  should  be  reviewed  here. 

To  show  how^  apperception  affects  perception, 
several  figures,  some  of  them  reproductions,  are 
given  on  the  opposite  page.  They  will  be  found 
valuable  as  well  as  entertaining  in  experimenting 
with  the  children.  As  soon  as  the  children  find 
themselves  deceived  in  the  figures  they  will  be- 
come very  wary,  and  proceed  with  such  caution 
that  many  of  them  can  not  readily  be  misled 
again.  Notice  the  particular  temperaments  most 
generally  making  mistakes.  Take  now  several 
small  wooden  balls  or  cubes  of  varying  sizes,  two 
or  three  of  each  being  of  the  same  size,  and  test 
the  children's  ability  to  distinguish  among  them. 
Some  of  the  smaller  balls  or  cubes  should  be  skill- 
fully loaded  inside  with  shot,  so  as  to  be  equal  in 


Vui.  1. 


a  0  c 

Fig.  2. 


Fig.  3 


b 


Fig.  5. 


Fig.  4. 


A 


A 


Fig.  6. 


—b 
d 


Fig.  8, 


Fig.  11. 


Fig.  10. 


/////////// 
/////////// 

Fig.  12. 


Fif?.  1.  Is  the  diameter  of  the  circle  >  or  <  than  the  side  of  the 
square?  Fig.  2.  Which  is  longer,  ah  or  hc%  Fig.  3.  Which  of  the 
rectangles  is  the  longer?  Fig.  4.  Which  horizontal  diameter  is  the 
greater?  Fig.  5.  Which  is  the  longer,  ah  or  h  c%  Fig.  6.  Which  is 
the  greater  distance,  ah  or  c  (Z  ?  Fig.  7.  Is  the  line  c  d  or  the  line  e  e 
parallel  to  ahi  Figs.  8  and  9.  Which  is  the  longer,  a  b  or  he'}  Fig. 
10.  Which  is  the  longer,  a  or  c  ?  Does  the  book,  J,  open  toward  or 
froni  you?  Fig.  11.  Which  is  the  longer,  ah  ov  c  d\  Fig,  12.  At 
which  end  do  these  lines  converge  ? 

If  these  figures  are  placed  on  the  blackboard  or  transferred  to 
chart  paper,  they  can  be  used  with  excellent  success  before  the 
classes. 


THE   INTELLECT  AND   ITS  FUNCTIONS.   127 

weight  to  the  next  larger  size.  See  what  effect 
the  suggestiveness  of  size  has  upon  the  estimate 
of  weight.  Your  own  experience  will  suggest  to 
you  a  number  of  tests  serving  a  similar  purpose. 

Memory  is  the  act  of  recalling  the  picture  of  a 
past  experience.  The  experience  must  come  back 
approximately  as  it  occurred,  and  the  self  must 
recognize  it  as  having  been  an  experience  of  its 
own  in  a  certain  more  or  less  definite  time  and 
place.  Its  value  depends  also  upon  its  accuracy, 
its  rapidity,  and  its  comprehensiveness.  Without 
memory  there  could  be  no  progress  in  knowledge- 
getting.  However  valuable  the  presentative  ac- 
tivities already  described  may  be,  if  memory  be 
wanting  their  cultivation  and  development  are  im- 
possible. They  reciprocally  affect  each  other. 
Perception  makes  little  advancement  if  memory  is 
not  following  closely  behind. 

As  each  experience  helps  to  an  understanding 
of  the  next,  the  place  of  memory  is  easily  enough 
seen.  This  particular  function  is  so  important 
that  the  question  naturally  arises  whether  mem- 
ory ought  to  be  made  to  serve  any  other  purpose. 
If  a  past  experience  contains  one  or  more  elements 
similar  to  those  of  the  present  experience,  the  law 
of  suggestion  is  usually  potent  enough  to  pro- 
voke its  spontaneous  recall  and  application  to  the 
new  experience  without  any  special  effort  of  the 
mind.  If  you  will  watch  the  children  at  their 
plays,  you  will  see  how  fully  this  law  controls. 
Watch  them  at  their  house  games,  and  see  how 
much  more  readily  many  of  them  learn  details 
than  do  their  elders.     See  also  how  quickly  an 

12 


128  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  ClUhD. 

experience  in  one  line  is  used  by  the  child  to  help 
him  in  understanding  another  when  their  similar- 
ity seems  very  slight  even  to  you.  Under  such 
demands  note  how  little  repetition  is  necessary 
to  enable  many  children  to  recall  the  aids  that 
unlock  the  meaning  to  the  new  experience.  Chil- 
dren seldom  worry  about  remembering  things. 
They  remember  them  only  as  they  creep  into  their 
consciousness  by  the  laws  already  named.  They 
do  little  feeling  around  in  the  past  until  they 
grow  older  or  until  the  task  is  set  before  them. 
This  great  function  of  memory  being  so  evident, 
the  advantage  of  certain  lines  of  sequence  in  the 
everyday  experiences  of  the  child  needs  no  fur- 
ther argument.    Art  is  thus  made  possible. 

But  memory  serves  another  great  purpose  in 
furnishing  to  the  self  its  past  experiences  in  order 
that  it  may  reason  about  them  and  discover  the 
principles  and  laws  involved  in  them,  their  like- 
nesses and  differences,  their  nature  and  value. 
You  have  noticed  how  difficult  it  is  for  some  chil- 
dren to  see  the  similarity  or  dissimilarity  of  two 
things  you  are  talking  about,  particularly  as  they 
are  compelled  to  hold  one  of  them  in  the  memory. 
The  vagueness  of  details  in  the  memory  picture 
Qnd  its  disposition  to  slip  away  entirely  were  con- 
stantly defeating  you.  Induction  and  deduction 
are  both  impossible  without  memory.  The  more 
readily  a  child  recalls  experiences  having  common 
elements,  the  more  accurately  and  the  more  rapid- 
ly does  he  discover  a  body  of  laws  and  principles. 
Such  discoveries  react  upon  the  mind,  multiply- 
ing with  wonderful  rapidity  the  child's  power  of 


THE  INTELLECT  AND   ITS   FUNCTIONS.  129 

retention  and  recollection.     Science  and  philoso- 
phy are  thus  assured. 

Memory  also  serves  a  great  end  in  a  prudential 
way.  Half  of  the  misfortunes  of  childhood  come 
because  the  child  forgets  what  he  has  experienced 
or  what  has  been  told  him.  Out  of  memory  cau- 
tion quickly  develops  and  control  becomes  pos- 
sible. The  memory  of  yesterday's  bumping  pre- 
vents another  tumble  downstairs  to-day;  of  this 
morning's  sting,  the  handling  of  another  wasp; 
of  father's  displeasure,  the  loss  of  the  hatchet;  of 
last  night's  sore  throat,  exposure  to  cold.  Not 
always  promptly,  nor  with  all  children,  do  these 
results  follow,  but  sooner  or  later  they  come  and 
grow  into  a  system  with  untold  benefits  to  the  in- 
dividual and  to  society. 

The  pleasures  of  memory  are  not  excelled  by 
those  of  the  imagination,  of  which  poets  so  pro- 
fusely sing.  Childhood  hours — mother's  lullaby, 
the  fragrance  of  the  apple  blossoms,  the  songs  of 
the  robin,  the  stories  round  the  old  hearthstone, 
the  Thanksgiving  dinner,  the  midnight  visit  of 
Kris  Kringle,  the  little  red  schoolhouse  in  the 
neck  of  the  woods,  the  jingle  of  sleigh  bells,  the 
thrill  of  love's  first  dream,  the  visit  to  Aunt 
Mary's,  the  old  singing  school,  the  old  oaken 
bucket,  the  cows  winding  slowly  o'er  the  lea,  the 
night  when  troth  Avas  plighted,  the  day  when  we 
first  entered  a  home  of  our  own — are  but  a 
few  of  the  multitude  of  beautiful  visions  which 
ever  and  anon  drive  out  the  care  of  to-day  and 
fill  the  soul  with  happiness.  Even  the  sorrows 
and  struggles  of  the  past  have  a  halo  about  them 


130  THE  STUDY  OF   THE   CHILD, 

that  makes  their  remembrance  dear  to  every 
heart. 

In  efforts  at  expressing  thought  by  symbols, 
particularly  by  language,  memory  serves  another 
great  function.  Facts,  events,  dates,  names, 
places,  persons,  forms,  colors,  movements,  princi- 
ples, laws,  must  be  recalled  in  an  orderly  way  that 
the  mind  may  carry  on  a  connected  line  of 
thought;  words  with  which  to  express  the  idea 
appropriately  must  also  reappear  at  the  exact  time 
needed.  Happy  is  the  child  to  whom  all  these 
come  spontaneously.  But,  generally  speaking, 
special  effort  is  necessary  for  their  recall,  and 
memory  takes  the  form  of  recollection. 

Recollection  is  memory  under  control  and  direc- 
tion of  the  ivill.  By  utilizing  the  laws  of  associa- 
tion and  suggestion,  the  will  rebuilds  a  former 
experience,  slowly  or  rapidly  as  the  degree  of  fa- 
miliarity may  permit.  By  this  it  must  not  be 
understood  that  memory  proper,  as  spontaneous, 
reproduces  a  past  experience  without  any  mental 
effort  whatever,  but  simply  that  such  effort  is  re- 
duced to  a  minimum.  Every  mental  state  is  an 
activity,  as  has  been  explained,  memory  not  ex- 
cepted. In  recollection  will  and  effort  come  into 
prominence  in  consciousness  as  factors.  Ability 
to  recall  a  part  or  all  of  an  experience  at  will  is 
invaluable  in  any  occupation  or  profession  the 
youth  may  enter. 

Discover  whether  your  children  are  recalling 
spontaneously  or  with  evident  effort;  how  many 
remember  places  better  than  names,  facts  better 
than  principles;  what  they  see  better  than  what 


THE  INTELLECT  AND   ITS  FUNCTIONS.    131 

they  hear;  what  interests  them  better  than  what 
does  not;  what  is  recent  as  compared  with  what 
is  remote;  what  they  understand  as  compared 
with  what  they  do  not.  Find  out  what  effect  phys- 
ical depression  or  fear  has  upon  memory;  whether 
they  remember  names  better  than  dates,  and  the 
cause  of  it;  what  is  the  effect  of  repetition.  Do 
they  remember  poetry  better  tlian  prose?  If  so, 
why?  Find  out  also  whether  you  are  not  making 
life  a  burden  to  them  in  requiring  them  to  "  com- 
mit to  memory  "  many  things  that  would  remain 
with  them  with  little  effort  if  given  later  on,  and 
whether  there  are  not  many  things  which  they 
could  easily  appropriate  now  that  you  are  with- 
holding for  the  future. 

If  your  inquiries  are  pursued  far  enough,  you 
will  have  material  sufficient  to  keep  you  thinking 
for  a  long  time.  Your  conclusions  will  prove 
about  as  follows: 

The  more  clearly  a  child  understands  a  sub- 
ject, 

The  more  it  affects  his  personal  interests  and 
needs. 

The  more  vivid  the  original  impression, 

The  more  definitely  it  is  related  to  his  other 
knowledge. 

The  more  carefully  the  natural  sequence  is 
followed  in  approaching  it, 

The  less  will  be  the  effort  necessary  for  its 
recall.  Eepetition  and  writing  as  memory  aids 
will  probably  take  a  subordinate  place  in  your 
methods,  though  not  losing  their  value  entirely. 
Correct   habits   in   knowledge-getting   will   seem 


132  THE  STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

more  desirable  than  a  great  amount  of  knowledge 
itself. 

Imagination  is  the  third  great  notion  or  pic- 
ture-forming activity  of  the  intellect.  Its  function 
is  to  embody  the  ideal  in  co7icrete  forms.  Percep- 
tion gives  us  the  idea  of  an  object.  Imagination 
reverses  the  process.  It  starts  with  the  idea  and 
expresses  it  in  some  individual  form.  It  is  cre- 
ative. It  produces  new  forms.  These  may  be  con- 
structed in  a  mere  mechanical  way,  with  little  or 
no  definite  purpose  in  view,  or  in  accord  with  the 
highest  ideals  of  the  human  soul.  In  their  origin 
they  may  be  almost  exclusively  emotional  or  as 
exclusively  intellectual.  They  range  all  the  way 
from  the  laying  of  a  few  sticks  together  in  a  cer- 
tain w^ay  to  the  carving  of  the  Apollo  Belvidere; 
from  the  potato-masher  to  the  linotype;  from  "Ba, 
ba,  black  sheep  "  to  the  book  of  Job;  from  the 
rude  hut  to  the  towering  cathedral;  from  the  crude 
sketches  of  the  simple-minded  peasant  to  the 
noble  frescoes  of  the  Vatican.  Out  of  imagina- 
tion rises  the  beautiful  world  of  art,  inspiring  and 
refining  the  race.  It  touches  every  side  of  life, 
and  makes  progress  possible. 

In  its  simpler  and  more  mechanical  form  the 
imagination  is  largely  inventive,  the  end  being  to 
construct  something  rather  than  to  express  or  em- 
body an  idea,  or  even  to  produce  something  to 
serve  a  specific  purpose.  Children  will  often  labor 
for  hours  to  build  a  mud  dam  or  a  block  house, 
and  then  destroy  it  in  an  instant  without  a 
shadow  of  compunction.  Their  plays  constantly 
call  into  requisition  their  imaginative  powers,  and 


THE   INTELLECT  AND  ITS  FUNCTIONS.  133 

the  marvelous  freedom  with  which  they  make, 
destroy,  burn,  kill,  tiy,  die,  come  to  life  again,  be-, 
come  rich,  lose  all  their  property,  sail  to  the  moon, 
administer  medicine,  become  grandmothers,  sol- 
diers, sailors,  merchants,  showmen,  monkeys,  dogs, 
cats,  horses,  bears,  sheep,  fairies,  griffins,  cow- 
boys, ghosts,  or  angels — all  in  imagination — is  well 
known  to  everybody.  There  is  just  as  much  art 
in  all  this  as  there  is  in  the  pictures  the  child 
draws  or  the  models  he  makes  from  clay.  This 
process  of  modifying  the  things  he  is,  the  things 
he  has,  and  the  things  he  sees  and  hears,  but  fore- 
casts what  he  will  be  doing  in  youth  and  man- 
hood. The  greater  the  skill  which  he  attains  in 
putting  his  experiences  into  new  forms  and  in  de- 
vising ways  and  means  of  doing  things,  the  better 
will  be  his  preparation  for  active  life. 

Eead  or  tell  a  story  to  the  children,  and  dis- 
cover the  differences  in  the  pictures  which  they 
form  of  it.  Some  will  note  every  detail,  others 
scarcely  any.  Ask  them  to  tell  an  original  story 
or  act  an  original  part,  and  note  the  differences 
among  them.  Give  half  of  the  girls  dolls  and  the 
other  half  scraps  of  ribbons  and  dress  goods;  give 
half  of  the  boys  water-color  paints  and  brushes 
and  the  other  half  sand  pans;  keep  busy  yourself, 
but  watch  them  and  see  what  they  do.  Give  them 
curious  toys,  and  discover  who  will  find  out  first 
how  to  play  with  them.  Give  them  all  simple  puz- 
zles and  see  who  will  find  their  way  out  first. 
Show  them  pictures  and  give  all  a  chance  to  tell 
what  they  see  in  them.  Give  them  rings,  colored 
sticks,  colored  beads,  colored  strips  of  paper,  pen- 


134  THE   STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

cils,  soft  clay,  needles  and  thread,  etc.,  and  see 
•what  they  make  out  of  them.  Note  particularly 
who  are  original  and  who  follow  others.  Find 
where  all  get  their  ideas  for  the  new  forms.  Which 
are  more  imaginative,  boys  or  girls?  Note  also 
who  seem  to  take  more  pleasure  in  color  than  in 
form  pictures.  The  study  will  have  special  value 
if  you  discover  the  causes  of  the  differences  among 
the  children,  and  note  the  influence  which  a  little 
suggestion  from  you  may  have. 

The  inquiries  just  suggested  are  intended  more 
for  the  smaller  children,  but  you  will  readily  de- 
vise methods  for  making  appropriate  tests  with 
older  children.  Compare  the  memoranda  and  dis- 
cover how  the  imagination  in  the  different  ages 
varies.  New  themes  now  interest  them.  Images 
form  more  rapidly.  Delicacy  and  fineness  begin 
to  characterize  them.  They  bear  the  stamp  of 
individuality.  Ornamentation  in  some  cases  and 
utility  in  others  show  the  trend  of  emotion  or 
thought.  Have  them  read  The  Building  of  the 
Ship,  The  Village  Blacksmith, Maud  Muller,  Snow 
Bound,  and  tell  you  the  stories  in  their  own  lan- 
guage. Ask  them  to  describe  a  certain  landscape, 
yesterday's  thunderstorm,  the  old  mill,  and  note 
the  plainness  of  some  and  the  rich  coloring  of 
others.  You  will  find  some  extremely  practical, 
others  visionary  and  fanciful;  some  resourceful, 
others  wholly  lacking  in  originality  and  creative 
power. 

In  its  highest  sense  as  creative,  imagination 
seeks  to  produce  forms  that  will  symbolize  uni- 
versal ideas,  with  little  sensuous  material  to  ex- 


THE   INTELLECT  AND  ITS  FUNCTIONS.    135 

press  great  truths.  Its  test  is  its  weight  of  mean- 
ing; its  themes,  the  deepest  emotions  of  the 
hnman  heart.  As  the  youth  begins  to  think  and 
to  feel  deeply,  he  begins  to  catch  the  deeper  mean- 
ings of  the  creations  of  Nature  and  of  art,  and 
to  long  to  express  them  himself.  Lack  of  space 
forbids  elaboration,  but  the  development  of  the 
child's  imagination  from  the  purely  mechanical 
to  fancy  and  to  the  higher  forms  of  creative  activ- 
ity is  one  of  the  most  fruitful  themes  for  inquiry 
and  study. 

Perception,  apperception,  and  memory  de- 
pend much  upon  imagination  for  the  filling  out 
of  the  details  in  the  mental  pictures  they  form. 
It  is  sometimes  so  active  that  the  child  is  self- 
deceived,  for  it  covers  up  the  real  elements  in  an 
object  with  the  wealth  of  associated  elements 
which  it  immediately  images.  Memory  pictures 
are  often  most  unreliable  for  the  same  reason  and 
because  of  the  inability  of  the  child  to  distinguish 
between  the  old  and  the  new  elements  present. 
On  this  account  children  are  often  punished  for 
falsehoods  for  which  they  are  not  responsible,  or 
at  most  not  wholly  to  blame. 

An  imagination  that  simply  understands  and 
appreciates  what  another  constructs  is  sometimes 
called  passive.  That  which  constructs  is  called 
active.  The  terms  may  help  to  a  distinction,  but 
it  is  easily  seen  that  all  imagination  is  active;  that 
however  suggestive  and  complete  the  creation  of 
another  may  be,  it  is  still  necessary  for  the  receiv- 
ing mind  to  construct  its  own  picture  in  order  to 
get  its  meaning.     The  greatest  painting  in  the 


136  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

world  is  but  a  varicolored  canvas  to  him  who 
knows  not  how  to  give  it  relief  and  life.  Even 
Home,  Sweet  Home  has  scarcely  more  than  rhythm 
to  him  who  as  he  reads  can  not  construct  the  pic- 
tures of  the  palaces  and  their  gay  throngs,  the 
thatched  cottages  and  the  humble  hearth-stones, 
the  caroling  birds  and  the  lonely  exile. 

Like  the  other  picture-forming  activities,  im- 
agination everywhere  obeys  the  laws  of  association 
and  suggestion,  often  responding  to  the  slightest 
stimulus,  constructing  and  building,  combining 
and  recombining,  "  turning  even  airy  nothingness 
to  forms  and  shapes  "  of  beauty  and  of  use.  It  is 
to  this  rare  faculty  that  we  owe  the  wealth  of  fig- 
ures that  illuminate  and  vivify  the  world  of  litera- 
ture. 

The  cultivation,  direction,  and  control  of  the 
imagination  of  the  child  demand  understanding 
and  skill  of  the  highest  order.  Into  its  upbuilding 
flows  every  current  of  his  mental  life.  Upon  its 
genius  every  ideal  and  every  destiny  depend. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  INTELLECT  AND  ITS  FUNCTIONS  (CONTINUED). 
CONCEPTION,   JUDGMENT,    SEASONING. 

EvEEY  act  of  the  mind  is  more  or  less  com- 
plex, calling  into  exercise  as  it  does  a  variety  of 
activities.  Its  name  depends  npon  the  activity 
most  prominent  in  consciousness.  Imagination  is 
dependent  npon  memory  for  its  materials,  mem- 
ory upon  perception,  perception  upon  sensation. 
In  certain  measure,  also,  the  reverse  is  true,  as 
has  been  explained.  Apperception  involves  them 
all.  The  additional  general  intellectnal  processes 
named  are  conception,  judgment,  and  reasoning. 

Formerly  the  term  conception  had  a  twofold 
signification.  It  was  used  as  synonymous  with  per- 
ception, or  individual  notion,  and  also  as  signify- 
ing the  notion  of  a  class.  It  is  now  fast  losing  the 
former  meaning  and  is  being  used  in  the  latter 
sense.  It  will  be  used  here  as  applied  to  mental 
pictures  as  general  notions  only.  ISTotions  of 
classes  are  built  up  by  analysis  and  synthesis  much 
in  the  same  way  as  notions  of  individual  objects. 
As  an  illustration,  a  child  meets  for  the  first  time 
a  few  dozen  apples  of  different  varieties.  He  ex- 
amines one  and  finds  it  nearly  spherical,  with  a 
positive  indentation  and  a  stem  at  one  end  and  a 

137 


138  THE   STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

slight  depression  with  rudiments  of  leaves  at  the 
other.  He  notes  the  covering,  the  difference  in 
the  outside  and  the  inner  part  of  the  flesh,  the 
kinds  of  seeds  and  seed  cases,  the  texture  and 
taste.  He  examines  another,  and  a  score  of  them, 
and  discovers  that  in  all  these  things  they  prac- 
tically agree.  Some  are  larger  than  others;  some 
are  tart,  some  sweet,  some  mealy,  some  soft,  others 
hard.  They  vary  in  color  and  a  little  in  gen- 
eral shape,  but  the  points  of  likeness  recur  so 
often  and  are  so  clearly  marked  that  they  enter 
into  the  notion  or  mental  picture  of  the  class 
apple  as  a  whole.  He  recognizes  objects  as  apples 
only  as  they  possess  those  characteristics.  A  large 
number  of  green  leaves  are  examined.  Each  leaf 
is  found  to  be  flat,  to  possess  a  midrib  with 
branches  and  a  network  of  veins,  to  be  composed 
of  a  pulpy  cellular  center,  to  have  a  stem  on  which 
it  rises  from  the  twig,  though  varying  greatly  in 
form,  in  margin,  in  thickness,  and  in  special  char- 
acter of  venation.  The  common  or  like  elements 
are  united  into  a  mental  picture  of  leaves  in  gen- 
eral— a  picture  which  any  ordinary  leaf  will  fit. 
If  you  were  to  mold  a  leaf  out  of  clay,  or  cut  one 
out  of  paper,  or  draw  a  picture  of  one,  in  all  cases 
you  would  make  it  more  or  less  in  accord  with  this 
general  notion  or  picture.  What  is  true  of  the 
apple  or  leaf  is  also  true  of  the  triangle,  or  square, 
or  sphere,  or  fish,  or  star,  or  house,  or  wagon,  or 
flower. 

For  the  above  reasons  a  conception  may  be  de- 
fined as  an  image  ivliicli  symbolizes  the  general  pro- 
cesses by  which  all  the  individual  memibers  of  the 


THE   INTELLECT  AND  ITS  FUNCTIONS.   139 

class  to  which  it  belongs  are  constructed.  The  con- 
ception of  a  triangle  is  that  of  a  polygon  with 
three  sides  and  three  angles.  With  that  image  only 
in  the  mind,  you  may  construct  ten  thousand  tri- 
angles, no  two  being  alike  save  in  the  requirement 
of  the  conception — three  sides  and  three  angles. 
Sometimes  few,  sometimes  many  elements  enter 
into  the  conception  to  distinguish  the  class  from 
other  classes.  In  a  simple  way  life  is  the  only  ele- 
ment that  enters  into  the  conception  of  animate 
objects  to  distinguish  them  from  inanimate  ob- 
jects; the  spinal  column  to  distinguish  the  class 
vertebrates  from  the  invertebrates;  solidity  to  dis- 
tinguish ice  from  water.  It  is  true  that  in  each 
case  other  characteristic  elements  may  be  implied, 
but  they  follow  by  virtue  of  the  existence  of  the 
ones  named. 

The  anal3'sis  of  the  process  just  explained 
shows  the  following  steps: 

1.  Attention  to  one  particular  element  found 
common  to  all  the  individuals  of  the  class,  as 
the  sphericity  in  the  apples,  the  midrib  in  the 
leaves,  the  three  angles  in  the  triangles,  life  in 
animate  beings,  etc. 

2.  The  comparison  of  the  element  as  discov- 
ered in  the  individual  members  of  the  class  and 
of  other  classes  and  the  verification  of  identity 
and  difference. 

3.  The  gradual  separation  or  abstraction  of 
that  common  element  from  the  individuals  in  the 
class  and  its  formation  in  the  mind  purely  as  an 
abstract  mental  image. 

4.  The  union  or  synthesis  of  the  several  ele- 


140  THE  STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

ments  found  common  to  all  the  individuals  in  the 
class  into  one  whole,  making  the  concejjtion 
proper. 

It  must  be  apparent  that  the  greater  the  care 
taken  in  verifying  the  common  elements,  and  the 
greater  the  number  of  individuals  examined,  the 
more  accurate  and  complete  will  be  the  concep- 
tion. 

The  preceding  paragraphs  may  be  made  clearer 
by  taking  some  small  cubes  of  different  material 
and  following  up  the  steps  through  which  you 
lead  the  children  in  helping  them  to  form  a  con- 
ception of  a  cube.  When  you  think  they  have  a 
fair  idea  of  it,  put  the  cubes  out  of  sight  and  give 
them  some  clay  out  of  which  to  mold  a  cube. 
The  definition  of  a  concept  wall  then  mean  much 
more  to  you.  After  helping  them  to  a  mental 
picture  of  a  square,  give  them  pencils  to  draw  it, 
and  what  has  been  said  will  appear  still  plainer. 
Make  a  number  of  similar  experiments;  you  will 
probably  observe  that  what  you  are  doing  is  very 
much  like  "  teaching  school,"  but  that  you  have 
possibly  been  overlooking  the  importance  of  each 
step  in  the  notion-building  process.  The  investi- 
gation will  show  you  that  some  children  easily 
pick  out  the  more  important  and  characteristic 
common — that  is,  like — elements,  while  others 
note  the  more  superficial  and  the  more  variable. 
As  an  illustration,  one  child  will  speak  of  the 
sphericity  of  the  apples,  while  another  will  men- 
tion their  color;  one  will  note  the  rib  and  vena- 
tion structure  of  the  leaf,  while  another  will  be 
absorbed  in  the  outline  of  the  margin.    The  con- 


THE  INTELLECT  AND   ITS  FUNCTIONS.  141 

sequence  in  the  first  case  is  that  the  fundamental 
likenesses  are  discovered  and  a  correct  concep- 
tion easily  built  up,  while  in  the  other  the  difl'er- 
ences  are  noted  and  an  adequate  notion  is  im- 
possible. 

All  knowledge-getting,  however  simple  or  com- 
plex the  process,  results  in  conceptions — that  is,  in 
general  notions.  The  process  is  a  universalizing 
process — that  is,  the  mind  uses  the  individual  to 
build  the  general  idea.  The  meaning  of  every 
individual  is  to  be  found  only  in  the  common — 
the  like — elements  of  the  individuals  of  the  class 
to  which  it  belongs.  That  the  child  should  be 
taught  to  form  conceptions  accurately,  rapidly, 
and  comprehensively  needs  then  no  urging. 

Judgment  is  the  process  of  discovering  and  veri- 
fying the  relations  of  things.  It  hds  been  called  the 
typical  act  of  knowledge.  The  two  great  relations 
are  those  of  identity  and  difference.  These  rela- 
tions may  be  of  form,  size,  color,  texture,  move- 
ment, quality,  quantity,  time,  space,  part  and 
whole,  cause  and  effect,  etc.  Every  sentence  is  a 
formal  statement  of  a  Judgment.  The  child  says 
the  apple  is  red.  He  means  that  the  color  agrees 
with  his  mental  pictures  of  redness.  He  says  that 
the  knife  is  sharp,  and  means  that  its  edge  agrees 
with  his  notion  of  sharpness.  He  says  that  the 
dog  runs  fast,  that  the  house  is  large,  the  time  is 
long,  the  tree  is  far  away,  the  stove  is  hot,  the  iron 
is  heavy,  the  baby  is  crying,  and  ten  thousand 
other  things,  for  similar  reasons.  It  was  stated 
in  the  last  paragraph  that  the  knowledge-getting 
process  is  a  universalizing  process.     Look  now  at 


142  THE  STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

each  of  the  above  sentences  and  see  that  tlie  sub- 
ject is  an  individual  object,  and  that  the  predicate 
— that  which  tells  something  about  the  subject — 
is  an  abstract,  universal  notion  or  conception  that 
had  already  been  built  up  in  the  mind  and  with 
which  it  was  familiar.  The  child  simply  finds  and 
puts  the  individual  object  in  the  class  where  it 
belongs — the  apple  with  the  red  things,  the  knife 
with  the  sharp  things,  the  dog  with  the  fast  run- 
ners, the  house  with  the  large  things,  the  time 
with  the  long  things,  the  tree  with  the  far-away 
things,  etc. 

There  are,  then,  in  every  judgment,  as  in  every 
sentence,  a  perception  and  a  conception;  the  for- 
mer expressed  in  the  subject  and  the  latter  in  the 
predicate.  The  former  is  the  individual  and  the 
latter  the  universal.  The  judgment  affirms  their 
agreement  or  disagreement.  Judgment,  then,  may 
be  defined  as  finding  the  universal  in  the  individ- 
ual. The  accuracy  of  a  judgment  depends  upon 
three  things:  (1)  The  accuracy  of  the  perception, 
or  individual  notion;  (2)  the  accuracy  of  the  con- 
ception, or  general  notion;  (3)  the  accuracy  of 
the  comparison  upon  which  the  idea  of  agreement 
or  disagreement  is  based.  Inaccuracy  in  any  one 
of  these  may  result  in  a  wrong  judgment.  You 
see  again  how  interdependent  are  all  the  knowl- 
edge-getting processes.  If  now  you  recall  the  fact 
that  every  mental  picture  of  an  object  is  made  up 
of  things  learned  about  it,  you  will  see  that  in 
reality  each  element  in  it  is  the  result  of  a  judg- 
ment. You  will  also  see  that  every  affirmative 
judgment  you  may  make  about  an  object  gives 


THE  INTELLECT  AND   ITS   FUXCTIOXS.   I43 

3^011  a  new  element  to  put  into  the  mental  pic- 
ture of  it.  What  is  true  of  the  individual  notion 
is  also  true  of  the  general  notion.  Judgment, 
then,  is  also  involved  in  all  apperception.  At  first 
it  appears  in  consciousness  as  a  formal  eilort  at 
discovering  likeness  and  differences,  but  after- 
ward it  is  more  or  less  absorbed  in  the  ready  ap- 
perception of  the  attributes  of  objects.  It  serves 
as  a  means  of  verifying  apperception.  Psycho- 
logically speaking,  the  test  of  a  judgment  is  its 
harmony  with  the  other  related  judgments  already 
formed. 

In  its  earlier  life  the  child  seems  to  apprehend 
likeness  and  difference  intuitively — that  is,  with- 
out any  special  effort  at  finding  them.  As  already 
stated,  the  likeness  thus  discovered  is  usually 
rather  of  the  superficial  or  the  more  attractive 
than  of  the  fundamental  order.  It  is  only  as  he 
begins  to  find  the  less  evident  or  the  essential 
that  formal  judgment  is  called  into  requisition. 
Here  you  will  discover  the  principal  difference 
between  the  judgment  of  the  child  and  of  the 
man.  A  knowledge  of  essentials  and  of  the  more 
universal  elements  comes  only  with  experience  and 
education.  A  child's  judgment  is  confined  to  nar- 
row limits  and  to  few  details.  It  deals  almost 
exclusively  with  concrete  objects.  It  is  often 
scarcely  more  than  impulse,  but  profits  and  grows 
wiser  by  experience.  Test  your  children  on  their 
judgment  of  the  lengths  of  several  horizontal 
lines  you  draw  on  the  blackboard;  the  heights  of 
people  not  standing  near  together;  the  colors  of 
ribbons  shown  them;    the  likenesses  of  oranges 

13 


1-1:4  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

and  lemons,  of  leaves,  of  grains,  of  things  very 
much  unlike  as  well  as  very  much  alike.  Not 
only  will  yon  discover  how  greatly  they  differ  in 
their  ability  to  judge,  but  also  how  greatly  each 
child's  judgment  will  vary  in  the  different  classes 
of  objects  presented  to  him.  Find  out,  if  pos- 
sible, the  reason  in  each  case. 

Judgment  proper  endeavors  to  find  the  rela- 
tions between  two  things,  ideas,  or  objects  by  di- 
rect comparison.  This  process  is  sometimes  called 
implicit  reasoning,  though  judgment  is  certainly 
the  better  term.  It  often  happens,  however,  that 
the  comparison  can  not  be  directly  made  between 
two  objects  of  thought,  but  that  it  can  be  made 
through  the  medium  of  a  third.  This  process  is 
based  on  the  principle  that  things  that  are  equal 
to  or  like  a  certain  other  thing  must  be  equal  to 
or  like  each  other.  If  3  and  1  equal  4,  and  2  and 
2  equal  4,  then  3  and  1  must  equal  2  and  2.  If 
a  stick  is  one  foot  in  length  and  a  second  stick  is 
also  one  foot  in  length,  the  two  sticks  must  be 
equal  in  length.  If  each  of  two  pencils  is  like  a 
third,  they  must  be  like  each  other.  If  cats  have 
retractile  claws,  and  this  animal  is  a  cat,  it  must 
have  retractile  claws.  The  process  is  still  a  process 
of  finding  likenesses,  or  a  process  of  identification. 
It  is  more  complex  than  judgment,  because  of  the 
third  or  intermediate  element  used  for  connecting 
the  other  two. 

The  reasoning  process  may  then  be  defined  as 
the  operation  of  the  intellect  ly  which  the  relations 
of  certain  things  are  found  through  the  medium  of 
others.    Every  reasoning  process  stated  in  a  com- 


THE  INTELLECT   AND   ITS  FUNCTIONS.  145 

pact  way  takes  the  general  form  of  the  syllogism 
in  which  but  three  elements,  or  notions,  enter. 
So,  more  definitely  speaking,  reasofiing  is  simply 
-finding  the  i-elation  of  two  ideas  through  the  medium 
of  a  third.  Note  that  there  are  two  notions  in  a 
Judgment  and  three  in  a  syllogism.  The  elements 
or  terms  of  a  judgment  are  notions;  the  elements 
of  a  syllogism  are  judgments,  each  judgment  in 
a  syllogism  having  two  terms.  The  following  is 
the  general  form  of  the  syllogism: 

1.  y  is  X. 

2.  z  is  y. 

3.  .  • .  2  is  a;. 

The  part  which  y  plays  is  easily  seen.  It  sim- 
ply serves  as  a  medium  by  which  the  relation  of 
X  and  z  is  discovered.    If  investigation  shows  that 

1  is  true  and  also  that  2  is  true,  then  3  fol- 
lows of  necessity.     1  is  called  the  major  premise, 

2  the  minor,  and  3  the  conclusion;  x  is  called 
the  major  term,  z  the  minor,  and  y  the  middle. 
The  middle  term  must  be  a  universal  or  general 
notion  in  at  least  one  of  the  premises.  The  major 
and  minor  terms  must  mean  the  same  thing,  no 
more,  no  less,  in  each  place  used.  A  concrete  il- 
lustration will  help  to  a  clearer  understanding  of 
the  syllogistic  form: 

All  plants  have  a  circulating  fluid  called  sap. 

This  object  is  a  plant. 

.-.This  object  has  a  circulating  fluid  called 
sap. 

Make  other  syllogisms  of  a  similar  character 
and  see  whether  such  a  process  is  valid. 

The  illustration  just  given  is  known  as  a  de- 


146  THE   STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

ductive  syllogism.  Deduction  is  the  reasoning 
process  whicli  froceecls  from  a  general  'principle  to 
a  particular  fact.  Its  major  premise  is  always 
some  agreed  or  some  proved  principle.  An  ex- 
ample of  the  former  is  found  in  the  following: 

A  polygon  having  fonr  equal  sides  and  four 
right  angles  is  called  a  square. 

This  polygon  has  four  equal  sides  and  four 
right  angles. 

.  • .  This  polygon  is  a  square. 

Induction  is  the  reasoning  process  which  pro- 
ceeds from  individual  facts  to  general  principles 
and  laws.  Unless  the  major  premise  of  the  deduc- 
tive syllogism  is  agreed  upon  or  is  a  definition,  it 
must  be  established  in  some  way  as  a  basis  for 
the  argument.  This  is  done  by  the  inductive 
process  just  defined.  The  major  premise  in  the 
first  concrete  syllogism  was  established  in  some 
such  way  as  this:  One  plant  after  another  was  ex- 
amined until  a  large  number,  including  almost 
every  kind  and  variety,  had  been  tested  and  each 
was  found  to  contain  a  circulating  fluid.  What 
was  found  true  of  so  many  and  under  such  a  vari- 
ety of  conditions  was  supposed  to  be  true  of  all 
plants,  and  hence  the  general  statement — • 

All  plants  have  a  circulating  fluid. 

The  conclusion  in  the  inductive  process  is 
l)ased  upon  the  general  belief  in  the  uniformity 
of  nature.  It  holds  that  whatever  is  true  of  the 
representatives  of  a  class  under  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  varying  conditions  may  be  accepted  as 
true  of  all  the  members  of  the  class,  and  conse- 
quently of  the  class  as  a  whole.      The  facts  in 


THE  INTELLECT  AND  ITS  FUNCTIONS.   147 

inductive  reasoning  are  drawn  from  our  experi- 
ences. 

A  child  quickly  learns  to  draw  general  con- 
clusions from  his  experiences.  A  hot  stove  or 
poker  or  lamp  chimney  or  teakettle  burns  him, 
and  he  quickly  decides  that  hot  things  burn.  This 
gives  him  at  once  the  major  premise  for  the  de- 
ductive syllogism: 

Hot  things  will  burn  me. 

This  stove  is  hot. 

.  • .  This  stove  will  burn  me. 

In  many  cases  children  generalize  and  reach 
conclusions  too  quickly.  Often  one  single  ex- 
perience will  prove  sufficient  to  satisfy  them.  A 
child  is  snapped  at  by  a  dog,  and  he  immediately 
concludes  that  all  dogs  will  bite  or  snap  at  him. 
He  is  given  bitter  medicine  in  a  spoon,  and  thinks 
that  everything  offered  him  in  a  spoon  is  bitter. 
A  little  friend  of  mine  calls  everyboc^  nice  who 
gives  her  candy.  I  have  some  large  friends  who 
do  the  same  thing,  however!  As  soon  as  the  child 
thus  generalizes  about  a  class  of  objects,  he  makes 
the  application  very  promptly  to  an  individual 
case.  My  little  girl  was  very  shy  of  a  stranger  one 
morning,  but  when  I  told  her  that  he  was  my 
friend  she  went  to  him  at  once,  nestling  down  in 
his  arms  as  though  she  had  known  him  familiarly 
for  years.  At  another  time  I  picked  her  up  at 
the  head  of  the  stairway  and  started  downstairs 
with  her  head  pointing  below.  She  sprang  up  in- 
stantly, throwing  her  arms  around  my  neck,  ex- 
claiming, "  Papa,  you  will  let  me  fall !  "  Though 
I  assured  her  that  her  "  dear  papa  w^ould  not  let 


148  THE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

her  fall/'  she  replied,  "  Well,  papa,  that  is  the 
falling  way,  anyhow!  " 

Proof  is  anything  that  convinces  the  mind  of 
a  fact  or  principle.  It  may  come  through  observa- 
tion, experimentation,  or  reasoning.  There  can 
be  no  reliable  reasoning  which  is  not  based  upon 
accurate  and  many-sided  observation  and  experi- 
mentation. As  the  mind  of  the  child  is  satisfied 
with  so  little  evidence,  it  is  also  easily  moved  to 
change  its  views,  particularly  if  pleasure  or  ad- 
vantage appears.  Henry's  mother  easily  secured 
a  promise  from  him  that  he  would  not  play  mar- 
bles for  keeps,  but  when  he  saw  that  he  was  the 
best  player  at  school  he  changed  his  mind  about 
it.  The  child's  reasoning  must  be  in  large  meas- 
ure about  concrete  things,  but  the  process  needs 
no  less  careful  training  on  this  account.  Transi- 
tion is  not  made  at  once  to  abstract  reasoning. 
That  comes  gradually.  Ability  to  comprehend  the 
abstract  comes  only  by  long  practice  in  compre- 
hending the  concrete.  Every  effort  to  force  the 
former  will  prove  an  injury  to  the  child. 

There  is  a  physiological  side  to  reasoning  as 
well  as  to  perception.  Brain  cells  are  the  ma- 
chinery by  which  the  mind  thinks.  They  are,  like 
every  other  part  of  the  body,  developed  and  per- 
fected by  intelligent  exercise.  Brain  control 
comes  much  in  the  same  way  as  muscular  control. 
Nerve  centers  are  built  up,  correlated,  and  made 
responsive  to  the  varying  and  increasingly  com- 
plex demands  of  the  mind  only  in  Nature's  way 
and  in  Nature's  time.  Eecent  investigations  show 
that  the  nerve  cells  of  the  brain  probably  grow 


THE  INTELLECT   AND   ITS   FUNCTIONS.  149 

with  mental  activity  by  putting  out  branches  that 
interlace  more  or  less  with  each  other,  building 
up  "  apperception  masses "  that  act  together 
under  appropriate  stimuli,  thus  indefinitely  multi- 
plying the  mind's  capacity  for  work.  Everybody 
knows  how  hard  it  is  to  think  when  his  "  brain 
won't  work."  There  is  more  philosophy  in  the 
statement,  however,  than  everybody  supposes.  A 
brain  that  is  accustomed  to  light  thinking  will 
no  more  think  deeply  than  will  the  hands  of  a 
pianist  accustomed  to  light  and  catchy  music  play 
at  sight  the  highest  creations  of  the  masters.  It 
is  as  difficult  to  train  the  uncultivated  brain  of  an 
adult  to  think  and  to  reason  out  great  problems 
as  it  is  to  train  the  fingers  of  a  full-grown  man 
to  become  expert  at  the  piano  or  the  violin.  If 
the  mind  of  a  ISTewton  were  placed  in  the  head  of 
a  forester,  it  would  be  even  more  helpless  from 
lack  of  a  proper  brain  than  would  the  mind  and 
genius  of  Paderewski  from  lack  of  supple  fingers  if 
placed  in  the  brain  of  a  blacksmith.  The  educa- 
tion of  the  thinking  and  reasoning  activities  of 
the  child,  then,  should  not  be  postponed  to  the 
later  years  of  his  school  life,  but  should  conscien- 
tiously and  intelligently  accompany  every  stage  in 
his  development.  When  a  child,  he  ought  to  be 
permitted  to  think  and  to  reason  as  a  child.  He 
has  plenty  of  things  to  think  about  and  to  raise 
questions  about  if  he  is  exercising  his  senses  a? 
urged  in  the  opening  chapter.  Stimulate  inquiry 
and  investigation,  and  his  vision  will  be  wider 
and  deeper  with  every  rising  sun. 

The  first  inquiries  of  the  child  are  more  about 


150  THE   STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

what  things  are.  He  soon,  however,  begins  to 
raise  questions  about  the  causes  of  things.  He 
wishes  to  know  why  things  are  so  and  so.  These 
questions  reveal  to  you  the  things  about  which 
he  is  probably  able  to  reason.  If  you  have  become 
familiar  wth  children's  ways  of  seeing  things,  you 
will  hardly  fail  to  find  the  way  to  help  them  in 
their  reasoning  processes.  First  find  out  what 
they  know  about  the  class  in  general.  If  that,  ap- 
plied to  the  inquiry,  does  not  give  the  answer, 
guide  them  by  experimentation  and  induction  to 
discover  the  proper  principle.  Of  course,  there 
should  be  nothing  formal  or  mechanical  about 
the  process.  If  every  little  detail  were  followed, 
interest  would  die  at  once.  In  ordinary  reason- 
ing the  full  form  of  the  syllogism  is  seldom 
thought  out  even  by  adults,  much  less  by  chil- 
dren. By  a  single  movement  the  middle  term  is 
seen  to  connect  the  other  two,  and  their  identifica- 
tion is  at  once  announced. 

Eemember,  again,  that  the  end  of  all  knowl- 
edge-getting is  the  building  up  of  general  or  uni- 
versal notions,  and  that,  as  the  object  of  a  judg- 
ment is  to  add  another  element  to  the  mental 
image  already  forming,  so  the  reasoning  process, 
though  by  a  little  longer  route,  serves  the  same 
purpose. 


CHAPTEE   XVIII. 

THE    SELF,    HABIT,    AND    CHAEACTEB. 

The  term  self  has  been  used  frequently  in  the 
foregoing  pages.  It  may  now  be  more  clearly  ex- 
plained. By  the  self  is  meant  the  child,  the  man, 
as  the  subject  from  ivhich  conscious  phenomena  con- 
stantly rise.  It  is  that  which  responds  to  the 
stimuli  from  the  outside  world;  that  which  feels 
and  thinks  and  wills.  Its  manifold  activities  con- 
stitute what  is  called  mind.  The  self  is  distin- 
guished from  them  only  as  substance  is  distin- 
guished from  its  qualities  or  attributes.  Essen- 
tially the  self  is  as  its  attributes  or  activities. 
Knowing  them,  we  know  ourselves  and  other 
selves  also. 

In  speaking  of  the  various  mental  activities, 
there  is  frequently  a  suggestion  that  they  are  more 
or  less  independent  parts  of  the  self,  and  that  as 
one  of  them  is  acting  the  others  are  at  rest.  Mod- 
ern psychologists  are  agreed,  however,  that  the 
self  acts  as  a  unit  in  all  cases.  If  apperceiving, 
it  is  the  whole  self  that  apperceives;  if  recollect- 
ing, it  is  the  whole  self  that  recollects.  The  inter- 
dependence of  all  the  intellectual  activities  is  thus 
made  more  evident. 

"Wliatever  the  self  does  reacts  upon  it,  giving  it 

151 


152  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

the  power  to  do  the  same  thing  again  with  more 
ease  and  more  rapidity  than  before.  The  more 
frequently  the  fingers  perform  certain  movements, 
the  more  successfully  do  they  j^erform  each  suc- 
ceeding movement.  What  is  it  that  is  stored  up 
in  the  fingers  as  a  result  of  each  effort?  Nothing 
but  ability  to  do  it  again,  possibly  a  little  better 
and  with  a  little  less  exertion.  In  the  course  of 
time  the  fingers  become  organized,  as  it  were,  to 
execute,  those  particular  movements,  and  their 
efficiency  is  thus  greatly  multiplied.  In  the  same 
way  the  reaction  of  mental  activity  upon  the  self 
is  constantly  organizing  it  and  increasing  its  power 
to  act.  In  this  way  skill  comes,  and  readiness,  and 
comprehension.  In  this  way  also  come  tendencies 
and  dispositions.  Though  the  child  be  working 
objectively,  thinking  about  things  outside  of  him- 
self and  making  forms  and  colors  to  his  fancy, 
he  is  really  making  himself.  It  is  this  that  gives 
a  child's  environments,  a  child's  companions,  a 
child's  books,  and  a  child's  plays  such  tremendous 
significance  in  character-building.  The  nature  of 
mental  food  and  mental  exercise  affects  the  nature 
of  the  mental  organism  far  more  profoundly  than 
the  nature  of  physical  food  and  physical  exercise 
affects  the  bodily  organism.  Eead  Hawthorne's 
Great  Stone  Face,  and  then  verify  what  has  been 
said  by  a  study  of  the  children  in  your  circle. 

The  sjjudy  just  suggested  will  possibly  reveal 
some  puzzling  problems.  Apparent  contradic- 
tions of  these  statements  may  be  foimd,  but  their 
explanation  will  usually  appear  in  the  hereditary 
dispositions   or   in   the   influences   at   first   over- 


THE  SELF,   HABIT,   AND  CHARACTER.    I53 

looked,  Eead  J.  G.  Holland's  Social  Undertow 
for  further  enlightenment. 

You  have  already  seen  that,  as  these  activities 
organize  into  and  become  a  part  of  the  self,  they 
become  what  is  called  hahit.  At  first  they  are 
more  or  less  strange  and  unfamiliar,  more  or  less 
difficult  of  execution.  That  which  makes  them 
familiar  and  easily  executed  also  makes  them  a 
part  of  the  self.  Nothing  is  familiar  which  has 
not  been  converted  into  terms  of  the  self.  Under- 
standing and  repetition  are  the  two  factors  that 
best  bring  this  about,  though  the  latter  often  does 
it  in  a  mechanical  way.  Hahit  is  defined  as  activ- 
ity resulting  from  the  identification  of  an  action 
with  the  self  through  repetition.  When  conditions 
similar  to  those  originally  accompanying  an  act 
occur,  that  act  aiitomatically — ^that  is,  without 
conscious  effort — tends  to  repeat  itself.  This  is 
in  accord  with  the  law  of  physical  and  mental 
activity  that  when  any  element  of  a  series  recurs, 
the  whole  series  tends  to  recur  also.  The  mo- 
mentum of  habit  thus  carries  an  act  on  to  com- 
pletion, leaving  the  mind  free  to  give  attention 
to  any  unfamiliar  element  present.  For  illustra- 
tion, when  the  child  has  learned  to  walk,  he  moves 
about  the  yard  looking  at  the  birds  and  talking 
about  them  to  his  little  friends,  all  the  while  un- 
conscious of  efforts  at  walking.  He  is  watching 
the  birds  and  is  absorbed  in  them,  and  yet  he  is 
constantly  talking  to  them  or  about  them,  words 
coming  as  needed,  no  effort  now  being  required  to 
recall  them  or  to  pronounce  them. 

All  education  takes  the  form  of  habit.    Noth- 


154  THE  STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

ing  is  valuable  as  knowledge  or  skill  that  is  not 
so  fully  possessed  and  assimilated  with  the  self 
that  it  reacts  spontaneously  and  directly  to  its  ap- 
propriate stimulus.  Habit  makes  apperception 
possible.  Control  is  attained  with  habit.  It  ex- 
plains the  marked  differences  among  men  in 
their  ability  to  perform  certain  kinds  of  work. 
Ability  is  called  skill,  but  it  becomes  skill  only 
as  it  becomes  habit.  Both  j  mental  and  phy- 
sical skill  comes  from  practice  that  makes  it  hab- 
it. A  man's  strength  or  weakness  lies  in  his 
habits  of  thinking  and  doing.  His  habits  re- 
veal his  character,  or,  better,  his  habits  are  his 
character. 

Activities  that  take  the  form  of  habit  become 
permanent  characteristics  of  the  self  as  well  as  its 
controlling  forces.  From  certain  activities  come 
all  that  brood  of  evil  habits  so  common  among 
people  of  all  ages — laziness,  shiftlessness,  pro- 
crastination, listlessness,  slovenliness,  skepticism, 
faithlessness  to  promises,  lying,  instability,  fault- 
finding, scolding,  self-indulgence,  etc.  Most  for- 
tunately also  come  from  others  the  habits  that 
make  for  righteousness — industry,  thrift,  punctu- 
ality, neatness,  accuracy,  interest,  stability,  self- 
denial,  truthfulness,  gentleness,  courage,  etc. 
These  facts  make  it  possible  for  the  child  to  real- 
ize any  ideal  of  character  he  may  set  up.  They 
also  show  the  part  the  teacher  and  parent  may 
take  in  the  process. 

Children  easily  form  and  easily  break  habits. 
Their  imitative  instincts  serve  them  well.  It  is 
usually  otherwise  with  adults.     The  second  part 


THE  SELF,   HABIT,   AND  CHARACTER.    155 

of  the  first  statement  is  disputed  by  many  moth- 
ers. By  sad  experience  they  have  learned  how 
hard  it  is  to  break  some  bad  habits  into  which 
their  children  fall.  When,  however,  they  have 
secured  the  co-operation  of  the  children,  the  work 
is  less  difQcult,  so  the  statement  is  permitted  to 
stand.  It  is  admitted,  though,  that  there  may 
be  some  hopeless  cases.  A  boy,  a  neighbor  of 
mine,  when  but  seven  years  of  age  gravely  con- 
fided to  his  playmate  the  conclusion  that  he  had 
chewed  tobacco  so  long  that  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  him  to  abstain  from  it!  Another  of  still 
more  tender  years  had  formed  such  a  habit  of 
lying  that  correctives  proved  of  no  avail.  Another 
fell  to  fighting  nearly  every  boy  he  met.  Prob- 
ably every  household  has  its  truant  and  its  child 
that  goes  into  spasms  and  turns  "black  and 
blue  "  whenever  punished  or  denied  anything  it 
craves. 

Many  of  these  so-called  habits,  however,  are 
superficial,  and  mere  temporary  stages  in  the 
growth  of  the  child.  A  little  friendly  counsel  re- 
enforced  by  wise  punishment,  if  necessary,  usually 
corrects  them.  Dr.  D.  M.  Harris,  of  St.  Louis,  tells 
me  that  he  spent  a  few  hours  one  afternoon  and 
a  short  time  on  the  following  morning  in  show- 
ins;  a  little  ffirl  how  she  could  talk  without  stam- 
mering.  She  had  stammered  so  long  that  it  was 
supposed  to  be  a  physical  defect,  and  efforts  at 
its  cure  had  been  abandoned.  Imagine  her  moth- 
er's delight  at  the  dinner  table  to  hear  her  speak 
without  any  hesitation  or  defective  enunciation 
whatever.     Children  often  insist  that  they  can 


15G  THE   STUDY  OF  THE   CHILD. 

not  overcome  certain  bad  habits  tliat  some  re- 
minder will  readily  assist  them  in  correcting.  A 
friend  of  mine  tells  me  that  a  little  nephew  of 
hers  would  swear  like  a  trooper  when  angry.  He 
agreed  with  his  mother  that  it  was  very  wicked, 
but  he  "  got  so  mad."  At  the  conclusion  of  a  lov- 
ing talk  with  him  one  day  about  the  habit,  she 
tied  a  string  around  one  of  his  fingers  and  secured 
a  solemn  promise  that  as  long  as  that  string  was 
there  he  would  not  swear.  Early  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  day  after  he  came  rushing  into  the 
house,  crying,  "  Mamma,  mamma,  cut  this  string 
off  my  finger  quick! "  She  said,  "  Why,  my 
boy?"  "Oh,"  he  replied,  "I  am  mad  at  a  boy 
out  in  the  alley,  and  I  must  swear  at  him;  cut  it 
quick!  " 

As  has  been  remarked  already,  children's 
habits,  whether  good  or  bad,  are  easily  formed; 
hence  the  danger  of  indulging  them  too  frequently 
in  certain  cute  expressions  and  willful  pranks. 
The  first  "  I  won't  do  it!  "  often  provokes  a  smile, 
but  too  often  it  is  not  long  before  it  brings  hot, 
scalding  tears.  Study  the  habits  of  your  children, 
and  discover  the  circumstances  under  which  they 
have  risen.  Why  do  some  of  them  lounge  con- 
stantly? Why  do  some  walk  with  a  light,  elastic 
step  and  others  in  a  shuffling  way?  Why  do  some 
chew  their  tongues  when  they  write?  Why  are 
some  tidy  and  neat  and  others  dirty  and  slovenly? 
Why  are  some  always  losing  things?  Why  are 
some  invariably  ahead  of  their  fellows  and  others 
as  surely  behind  them?  Why  are  some  always 
alert    and    attentive,    and    others    diffident    and 


THE  SELF,   HABIT,   AND   CHARACTER.    157 

listless?  Wliy  are  some  constantly  complaining 
and  grumbling?  Why  do  some  always  speak 
in  a  loud,  self-important  way?  Why  are  some 
so  reserved  and  shy?  Why  are  some  habitual- 
ly blundering,  while  others  seldom  make  a 
mistake?  Why  are  some  frequently  breaking 
things  and  others  not?  Why  are  some  hurting 
themselves  daily  and  others  seldom  meeting  a 
mishap?  Why  are  some  continually  asking  ques- 
tions, while  others  seldom  do  it?  Why  do  some 
usually  forget,  while  others  seem  to  remember 
everything  they  meet?  Why  are  some  habitually 
open  and  frank,  while  others  are  reticent  and  re- 
served? In  seeking  answers  to  these  questions, 
you  should  not  overlook  the  valuable  assistance 
each  child's  family  may  give  you,  especially  the 
father  and  mother.  Eemember  that  the  mere  dis- 
covery that  such  habits  exist  will  be  of  little  value. 
You  know  that  now.  Their  origin  and  their  cor- 
rection in  each  case  are  the  special  objects  of  this 
study. 

Experiment  with  the  children  in  habit-T)reak- 
ing  and  habit-forming.  Discover  the  relation  of 
the  understanding  and  the  emotions.  Find  under 
what  conditions  a  child  will  promptly  break  a 
habit.  Is  a  bad  habit  more  easily  displaced  by 
suppressing  it  directly  or  by  building  up  other 
habits  of  an  opposite  tendency,  thus  accomplish- 
ing it  indirectly?  A¥liat  classes  of  goorl  or  bad 
habits  appear  to  aiTeet  habits  in  general?  What 
methods  do  you  find  helpful  in  building  up  right 
habits  of  thinking  and  doing?  What  elements  in 
the  child  seem  to  give  him  stableness  of  character? 


158  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

What  effect  have  children's  plays  upon  their  char- 
acter? Review  now  the  functions  of  physical,  in- 
tellectual, prudential,  and  moral  control  in  the 
process  of  character-forming.  In  what  way  are 
they  interdependent? 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

children's  instincts  and  plats. 

Instinct  is  an  inborn  disposition  to  certain  ac- 
tivities. It  manifests  itself  in  impulses  more  or 
less  efficiently  directed  iq,  the  attainment  of  spe- 
cific ends.  The  stimulus  to  action  may  come  from 
external  or  internal  sources.  When  the  cold  "  af- 
fects the  nervous  system  of  the  wild  goose  in  a. 
northern  latitude,  an  impulse  to  action  develops 
and  the  bird  flies  to  a  warmer  clime."  When  a 
duck  goes  into  the  water,  the  contact  awakens 
the  impulse  to  paddle.  "  When  certain  internal 
stimuli  make  themselves  felt  in  the  caterpillar, 
it  begins  at  once  to  weave  its  shroud."  "  Prompted 
by  an  internal  stimulus,  the  bird  starts  to  build 
its  nest;  the  human  being  to  mate,  to  search  for 
a  home,  and  to  take  up  the  round  of  domestic 
duties  toward  which  his  ancestors  were  likewise 
impelled.  Blind  impulses  due  to  nervous  tension 
have  from  the  beginning  of  history  driven  men 
to  do  certain  things."  Such  an  impulse  causes  a 
mother  to  shield  her  child,  a  panic-stricken  army 
to  flee,  a  youth  to  become  an  artist,  an  explorer, 
a  scientist,  or  a  philanthropist.  These  inherent 
tendencies  or  instincts  predetermine  in  large  meas- 
ure the  history  of  each  life. 

14  159 


160  THE  STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

The  impulse  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  child's 
first  cravings  for  food  suggests  at  once  the  idea 
that  all  instincts  are  implanted  in  the  child  to 
satisfy  certain  general  demands  of  his  nature,  or, 
probably  better,  to  impel  to  the  realization  of  the 
possibilities  of  his  nature.  The  impulse  to  exer- 
cise is  not  purposeless.  It  develops  strength  and 
skill.  Both  anticipate  future  needs.  The  impulse 
to  perception,  to  know  things  present  to  the  senses, 
calls  into  exercise  knowledge-getting  activities 
that  later  are  to  grapple  with  the  great  problems 
of  the  universe.  The  impulse  to  imitation  serves 
to  stimulate  both  physical  and  mental  activity, 
and  to  make  education  and  progress  possible.  The 
impulse  to  expression  devises  a  multitude  of  ways 
and  means  by  which  mind  may  communicate  its 
ideas  to  other  minds  and,  as  a  result,  it  produces 
all-comprehensive  language,  the  rarest  creation  of 
the  Imman  intellect. 

Out  of  these  impulses  and  instincts  have  come 
science  and  art  and  philosophy,  with  their  mani- 
fold blessings  for  the  race.  But  these  instincts 
alone  would  have  left  man  an  isolated,  selfish 
being,  finding  pleasure  only  in  the  gratification  of 
his  own  personal  desires.  Wholly  absorbed  with 
his  own  interests,  he  would  have  little  regard  for 
the  interests  of  others.  His  fellows  would  have 
borne  no  nearer  relation  to  him  than  that  borne 
by  other  objects,  animate  or  inanimate,  in  the 
world  about  him.  The  instinct  that  leads  him  to 
seek  the  companionship  of  his  fellows,  and  that 
finds  satisfaction  in  their  presence,  their  sympa- 
thy, and  their  co-operation,  gives  at  once  a  higher 


CHILDREN'S  INSTINCTS  AND  PLAYS.      161 

meaning  to  the  other  instincts  mentioned.  The 
end  of  all  this  is  not  simply  the  happiness  and 
perfection  of  the  individual,  but  of  the  race  as 
well.  This  impulse  to  fellowship  is  called  the  social 
instinct. 

Some  of  the  higher  species  of  animals  live  in 
pairs,  others  in  communities,  flocks,  or  herds. 
Man  mates,  but  lives  also  in  communities.  The 
hermit  or  the  recluse  is  always  regarded  as  an 
abnormal  man.  His  mode  of  life  interests  but 
seldom  attracts.  The  loneliness  of  Eobinson 
Crusoe  will  ever  continue  to  arouse  the  sympa- 
thies of  people  of  all  ages.  Even  in  robust  health 
few  men  or  women  like  to  be  long  alone.  When 
sickness  comes,  no  better  medicine  than  a  sym- 
pathetic friend  can  be  found.  Homesickness  is  a 
universal  disease.  The  social  instinct  draws  peo- 
ple together  everywhere.  It  sets  them  to  serving 
each  other.  It  finds  gratification  in  the  happiness 
and  prosperity  of  all.  It  recognizes  common  in- 
terests, mutual  dependence.  It  bands  the  people 
together  for  mutual  protection.  It  organizes  en- 
terprises for  the  good  of  the  community  as  a 
whole;  it  establishes  schools,  churches,  govern- 
ments. The  same  instinct  that  draws  individuals 
together  into  communities  draws  communities  to- 
gether into  larger  communities  and  into  states. 
Thus  it  awakens  the  love  of  home,  the  love  of 
kindred  and  of  native  land.  Thus  it  begets  the 
various  institutions  of  civilization. 

The  utter  helplessness  of  the  newborn  babe 
confirms,  if  confirmation  were  necessary,  the  idea 
that  man  was  intended  to  be  a  social  being.    Xext 


1G2  'J^HE  STCDY  OF  TJIE  CHILD. 

to  its  physical  demands  come  the  demands  for 
the  presence  of  another  person.  With  each  first 
waking  moment  how  imperatively  is  this  demand 
expressed!  With  what  satisfaction  does  the  child 
nestle  in  the  warm  bosom  of  its  mother  and  with 
what  manifestations  of  delight  does  it  soon  wel- 
come the  coming  of  the  different  members  of  the 
household!  Few  observers  have  failed  to  note  the 
intense  interest  with  which  children  meeting  for 
the  first  time  contemplate  one  another  and  how 
short  an  association  may  make  them  necessary  to 
each  other's  happiness.  Millions  of  children  have 
been  shnt  in  or  tied  up  because  they  persisted  in 
running  away  to  the  home  of  a  neighbor  in  order 
to  find  some  one  of  their  own  age  to  engage  in 
play.  The  most  interesting  thing  to  a  little  boy 
or  girl  is  another  little  boy  or  girl,  hobbyhorses 
and  dolls  not  excepted.  To  the  child  who  has 
had  the  pleasure  of  playing  with  another  child 
there  is  nothing  else  in  the  way  of  amusement 
quite  so  desirable.  In  many  ways  older  people 
satisfy  this  longing  of  the  cliild  for  fellowship, 
but  the  sweetest  joys  of  childhood  are  missed  by 
the  child  that  has  no  playmates  of  approximately 
his  own  age. 

/""  A  study  of  the  plays  of  children  shows  their 
great  resemblance  to  the  more  serious  occupations 
of  their  elders.  Children  plan  and  execute  with 
an  interest  and  an  energy  that  flag  only  when  the 
weary  little  body  demands  rest  and  sleep.  They 
strive  to  imitate  almost  every  conceivable  thing 
that  their  elders  do.  They  build  houses,  make 
mud  pies,  plant  corn,  go  to  town,  teach  school. 


CHILDREN'S  INSTINCTS  AND   PLAYS.      163 

give  i^arties,  play  doctor,  dress  the  dolls,  wash 
clothes,  build  tires,  break  colts,  hold  revival  serv- 
ices, run  lemonade  stands,  give  circus  perform- 
ances, play  soldier,  hive  the  bees,  make  garden, 
dig  coal  mines,  write  letters,  banter,  quarrel,  tight, 
kill!  The  earnestness  with  which  they  do  all 
this  shows  its  intense  reality  to  them,  and  shows 
further  that  the  instincts  of  childhood  do  not  dif- 
fer greatly  from  the  instincts  of  manhood.  Play 
foreshadows  the  occupations  soon  to  follow.  In 
it  the  imitative,  the  inventive,  the  expressive,  the 
social  instincts  of  the  child  find  their  normal  sat- 
isfaction. Play  thus  becomes  the  first  great  period 
of  apprenticeship  in  the  life  of  the  child.  In  it 
that  physical  and  intellectual  control  is  attained 
which  assures  easy  transition  to  skill  in  doing 
work.  Play  as  well  as  other  activities  reacts  upon 
the  child  and  helps  to  make  him  what  he  is. 

How,  then,  can  any  one  overlook  the  impor- 
tance of  the  child's  plays?  How  can  any  parent 
or  teacher  fail  to  take  an  abiding  interest  in  every- 
thing that  the  child  attempts  to  do?  The  charac- 
ter of  his  play  needs  the  same  attention  as  that 
given  to  the  character  of  his  food.  Some  plays 
call  the  imitative  activities  into  exercise  more 
prominently  than  others,  some  the  inventive,  some 
the  apperceptive.  Some  plays  quicken  the  judg- 
ment, others  the  memory;  some  call  out  the  rea- 
soning powers,  others  the  imaginative;  some  de- 
velop n^iuscular  strength,  others  skill.  Some  chil- 
dren engage  in  the  same  play  all  day  long,  others 
require  frequent  change;  some  prefer  quiet  plays, 
others    the    noisy    and    boisterous;    some    insist 


164  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

on  pla3dng  indoors,  others  seek  the  free  open  air; 
some  incline  to  plays  that  symbolize  industrial  oc- 
cupations, others  to  those  that  symbolize  nature  or 
adventure;  some  choose  games  or  plays  in  which 
there  is  a  contest  of  mind,  others  those  in  which 
the  contest  is  one  of  physical  strength  or  skill. 
A  recent  inquiry  among  a  large  number  of  boys 
of  eight  years  of  age  and  upward  shows  that  the 
popular  games  among  them  are  black  man,  crack 
the  whip,  duck  on  the  rock,  boxing,  baseball,  foot- 
ball, etc.  The  reason  almost  invariably  given  was 
that  "  it  is  such  fun  to  beat  somebody!  "  In  some 
cases  the  brutal  nature  crept  out  a  little  too  clear- 
ly, for  such  expressions  as  the  following  v^^ere  not 
uncommon :  "  It  is  such  sport  to  see  a  fellow  tuna- 
ble over  and  hurt  himself!  "  "  Sometimes  you  can 
knock  a  fellow  and  black  his  eye."  "  It  is  so 
funny  to  see  the  boys  and  girls  fly  off  the  whip 
and  then  go  limping  away!"  "Because  you  can 
break  an  arm  or  leg  sometimes."  "  If  you  watch, 
you  can  knock  the  breath  out  of  him."  Test  the 
children  on  all  these  points.  Discover  whether 
the  boys  and  girls  like  to  play  together  and  the 
reasons  for  it.  What  do  all  these  different  prefer- 
ences indicate?  What  effect  have  certain  classes 
of  plays  had  upon  the  school  work  of  the  chil- 
dren? 

The  range  of  a  child's  plays  should  be  so  wide 
and  so  carefully  selected  as  to  be  developing  every 
side  of  his  nature.  The  kindergarten  is  most 
happily  organized  for  this  purpose;  a  study  of  its 
principles  and  methods  will  throw  much  light 
upon  the  problem.    The  kindergarten,  however,  is 


CHILDREN'S  INSTINCT  AND   PLAYS.       165 

a  school,  even  though  its  whole  aim  is  to  direct 
the  play  instinct  of  the  child,  and  therefore  fails 
in  retaining  fully  the  most  essential  elements  in  all 
true  play — spontaneity  and  freedom.  The  range  is 
also  necessarily  very  limited.  It  presupposes  a 
wide  range  of  home  plays,  and  makes  them  con- 
trihute  to  its  own  games  and  plays.  In  fact,  it 
strives  to  correlate  them  all  in  such  a  way  as  to 
make  them  mutually  helpful.  The  investigation 
suggested  in  the  last  paragraph  will  show  that  in 
nearly  every  community  there  are  many  children 
who  not  only  have  a  very  limited  range  of  plays, 
but  who  are  also  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  there 
are  any  other  plays  than  those  with  which  they 
are  acquainted.  They  are  narrowed  and  dwarfed 
and  starved  from  lack  of  wholesome,  stimulating, 
thought-provoking  plays.  When  they  enter  school 
or  start  to  learn  some  trade  the  effect  of  it  all  is 
evident  enough. 

Wliat  the  children  play  is  no  more  momentous 
than  how  they  play.  Useful  plays  may  be  de- 
vised in  abundance,  and  yet  unsatisfactory  results 
follow.  The  liberal  hand  is  not  always  the  wise 
hand.  To  attain  the  highest  good,  plays  should 
succeed  each  other  in  the  order  best  adapted  to 
the  child's  capacities  and  needs.  A  child  may  en- 
tertain himself  day  after  day  for  a  year  with  the 
same  play,  but  there  can  be  little  growth  in  it  for 
him  after  a  few  successive  repetitions.  Of  course, 
the  child's  pleasure  must  be  consulted  in  the  se- 
lections, else  his  plays  will  be  of  little  profit  to 
him.  It  usually  requires  very  little  tact  to  con- 
trol his  choice,  though  there  is  always  danger  of 


166  THE  STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

a  mother  following  her  own  notions  and  conven- 
ience rather  than  the  needs  of  the  child.  <^It  is 
.always  safer  to  find  out  the  child's  instincts  and 
be  governed  by  theni^    The  philosophy  of  a  play 
is  a  very  profound^hing  on  the  mother's  side 
and  a  very  exacting  thing   on  the   child's  side. 
In   nothing   else   may   superficial   child   study   so 
easily  reveal  itself  as  in  the  management  of  play. 
,y    Children  should  be  taught  how  to  play  with 
the  same  care  that  they  are  taught  later  in  life 
how  to  work.    If  properly  led  and  instructed,  they 
learn  a  thousand  things  in  their  plays  that  be- 
come a  valuable  and  a  permanent  part  of  their 
mental  and  jDhysical  being.     Many  girls  become 
good    seamstresses    in    cutting    and    fitting    dolls' 
dresses.     Many  boys  learn  how  to  use  simple  tools 
in   playing   carpenter.      A   little   friend   of   mine 
learned   more   about   silkworms   by   caring   for   a 
few  eggs  given  her  and  watching  the  hatching  and 
the  metamorphoses  through  the  spinniiig  of  the 
cocoons  and  the  flight   of  the   moths  than  nine 
tenths  of  the  high-school  students  get  out  of  books 
on  entomology.     Another  became  a  fair  artist  in 
playing    with    his    pencils    and    his    water-color 
paints.     Another  learned  many  interesting  facts 
about  great  writers  in  playing  "  authors,"  and  in 
after  years  at  school  succeeded  in  passing  an  ex- 
amination in  which  that  knowledge  served  her 
well.     Are  not  many  of  Whitcomb  Riley's  poems 
surcharged  with  images  garnered  in   childhood's 
plays  and  wanderings?    The  vividness  with  which 
Shakespeare  describes  "  the  dainty,  dew-impearled 
flowers,  the  shadowy  forests  and  the  wide-skirted 


CHILDREN'S  INSTINCTS  AND   PLAYS.      167 

meads,  the  weaving  spiders  and  the  honey-bags 
of  the  bumblebees,  the  banks  where  the  wild 
thyme  blows  and  the  nodding  violet  grows,"  tells 
plainly  enough  how  he  romped  and  played  on 
many  a  knoll  up  and  down  the  beautiful  valley 
of  the  quiet  Avon.  It  also  discloses  how  richly 
these  ramblings  endowed  him  for  the  great  work 
of  his  mature  life. 

The  effect  of  play  upon  the  social  life  of  the 
child  and  upon  his  character  depends  much  upon 
its  management.  If  two  children  play  together 
happily,  one  must  deny  himself  all  the  time  for 
the  pleasure  of  the  other,  or  they  must  make  mu- 
tual concessions.  Few  small  children  are  known 
to  play  together  for  any  great  length  of  time  with- 
out quarreling.  One  of  them  may  yield  to  the 
other  for  awhile,  but  selfishness  overreach  3S  itself 
at  last  and  rebellion  results.  The  issue  must  be 
settled  by  an  appeal  to  arms  or  by  concessions 
from  the  aggressor.  A  few  lessons  usually  suffice 
to  convince  children  that  the  latter  is  the  better 
way.  Members  of  the  household,  particularly  the 
parents,  may  aid  the  process  greatly  by  discreet 
observation,  wise  repression,  and  sympathetic 
counsel.  The  child  is  naturally  a  despot.  He 
knows  that  he  is  to  rule,  and  often  thinks  that 
he  is  to  rule  others  rather  than  himself.  His 
plays  furnish  the  opportunity  for  the  simple  les- 
sons in  democracy  which  he  needs  in  order  to  an- 
ticipate the  more  responsible  duties  of  neighbor 
and  citizen. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

MANNERS    AND    MORALS. 

The  social  instinct,  along  with  all  other  hu- 
man instincts,  is  inventive.  It  is  not  satisfied 
merely  with  the  presence  of  other  people.  It 
soon  begins  to  devise  ways  and  means  for  its  com- 
pleter gratification.  It  profits  by  experiences,  as 
already  explained,  and  learns  to  respect  the  in- 
dividuality of  others.  It  takes  pleasure  in  their 
pleasure.  It  grieves  when  they  suffer.  It  identi- 
fies itself  with  them.  Sympathy  and  love,  self- 
denial  and  service  follow.  This  development  being 
more  or  less  reciprocal  in  the  individual  cases, 
additional  ways  and  means  of  showing  deference 
and  of  contributing  to  the  comfort  and  happiness 
of  one  another  are  easily  found.  Even  children 
quickly  discover  that  which  will  please  others, 
and  often  with  rare  generosity  seek  to  bestow  it. 
The  principle  is  not  disproved  in  saying  that  many 
children  and  adults  serve  others  because  they  ex- 
pect a  service  in  return,  nor  in  saying  that  they 
labor  to  make  other  people  happy  because  their 
sensitiveness  to  the  condition  of  others  is  so  great 
that  they  are  miserable  on  seeing  them  unhappy. 

Out  of  this  spirit  of  companionship  and  good 
will  have  risen  the  code  of  manners  generally  ob- 
168 


MANNERS  AND   MORALS.  169 

served  in  good  society.  Even  Bushmen  and  Pata- 
gonians  observe  simple  forms  of  etiquette  in  their 
social  intercourse.  Pirates  and  outlaws  are  as  ex- 
acting in  certain  social  requirements  as  are  the 
Knickerbockers  of  New  York  city.  The  simple 
folk  of  the  Scotch  Highlands  and  the  humble  peas- 
antry of  the  Tyrol  are  models  of  coilrtesy  and 
good  breeding.  All  civilized  people  are  governed 
by  social  customs  that  are  held  in  as  high  esteem 
as  the  statute  laws.  They  touch  every  phase  of 
the  domestic  and  the  community  life.  They  in- 
clude the  relation  of  master  and  servant,  of  supe- 
rior and  inferior,  of  peers  and  equals,  of  old  and 
young,  of  friends  and  strangers,  of  the  same  sex 
and  of  opposite  sexes;  they  include  the  proprie- 
ties of  the  street,  the  railway  car,  the  church,  the 
club,  the  public  assembly,  the  parlor,  the  dining 
room,  etc.  Few  men  who  are  lacking  in  good 
manners  are  successful  in  business  or  professional 
life.  The  secret  of  the  art  of  managing  men  is 
found  largely  in  the  art  of  treating  them  courte- 
ously. Emerson  says  that  "  address,  good  man- 
ners, rules  the  world."  It  makes  friends,  it  wins 
votes,  it  brings  trade,  it  opens  the  door  to  the 
social  circle,  it  forwards  diplomacy,  it  disarms 
hostility,  it  secures  co-operation,  it  everywhere 
contributes  to  the  comfort  and  the  enjoyment  of 
mankind.  The  utility  of  good  manners  is  often 
overlooked  in  the  education  of  children. 

]\Iere  politeness  should  not  be  confused  with 
good  manners.  The  former  is  simply  the  observ- 
ance of  external  forms.  The  latter  is  the  gen- 
erous expression  of  the  self  in  friendly  deference 


170  THE  STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

to  others.  Politeness  is  more  or  less  studied  and 
artificial;  good  manners  are  sympathetic  and 
spontaneous.  The  former  is  put  on  as  occasion 
demands,  the  latter  are  so  fully  a  part  of  the  self 
that  they  are  never  easily  cast  aside.  Affectation 
tries  to  hide  itself  in  politeness;  sincerity  expresses 
itself  in  good  manners.  All  efforts  to  teach  the 
children  the  forms  of  social  intercourse  without 
exalting  the  kindly  spirit  above  the  graceful  act 
must  result  in  making  them  merely  polite.  A 
selfish  child  may  be  polite,  but  not  good-man- 
nered. The  essential  in  all  cases  is  a  large  heart, 
a  warm  heart,  and  an  honest  heart.  Good  man- 
ners are  bred  into  children;  politeness  is  put  on 
the  outside  of  them.  To  know  how  to  act  in  com- 
pany is  but  a  small  part  of  good  manners;  it  is 
just  as  important  to  know  how  to  act  in  the  family 
circle  and  in  the  associations  of  everyday  life. 

The  development  of  good  manners  in  children 
is  largely  dependent  upon  the  presence  of  good 
manners  in  the  home.  If  affection  and  personal 
solicitude  for  each  other's  comfort  control  the 
actions  of  the  older  people  that  gather  round 
the  hearthstone,  the  little  children  will  hardly  be 
long  in  catching  the  spirit  as  well  as  the  action. 
Children  reared  in  such  homes  are  usually  easy 
and  self-possessed  in  any  company.  They  are 
not  obliged  to  "put  on"  when  among  strangers, 
and  consequently  they  suffer  little  embarrassment 
at  any  time. 

As  previously  suggested,  every  child  needs 
friendly  counsel  and  ,  advice  concerning  his  ac- 
tions  toward   others.     There   may  be   occasions 


MANNERS  AND  MORALS.       171 

when  he  needs  to  be  reminded  that  he  is  petulant 
or  selfish,  angry  or  boisterous,  forward  or  obtrusive, 
thoughtless  or  cruel,  uncouth  or  vulgar,  imperti- 
nent or  disrespectful.  There  certainly  are  occasions 
when  he  needs  to  be  shown  how  to  be  gentle  and 
considerate,  to  control  his  temper  and  to  respect 
the  rights  of  others,  to  be  self-sacrificing  and  gen- 
erous, to  be  modest  and  retiring.  These  virtues 
lie  at  the  very  basis  of  good  manners.  Every 
child  is  entitled  to  be  tanght  also  the  simple  mat- 
ters of  form  in  table  etiquette,  in  entering  and 
leaving  the  homes  of  others,  in  meeting  people 
in  the  street,  in  inviting  or  accepting  the  com- 
pany of  others,  in  welcoming  and  entertaining 
guests,  etc.  It  is  difficult  to  separate  good  man- 
ners from  grace  of  body  and  from  grace  in  sit- 
ting, standing,  walking,  talking,  and  gesture. 
These  make  up  part  of  the  social  as  well  as  the 
physical  education  of  the  child. 

In  the  study  of  the  social  life  of  children  the 
inqniries,  as  in  other  investigations  suggested, 
should  embrace  both  the  facts  and  their  causes. 
Why  are  some  children  coarse  and  ill-mannered, 
while  others  from  the  same  home  are  refined  and 
agreeable?  Why  are  some  familiar  with  the 
forms  of  polite  society,  and  yet  arrogant  and  boor- 
ish in  their  relations  to  other  children?  Why  are 
some  children  great  favorites  with  their  class- 
mates, while  others  have  few  friends?  Wliy  are 
some  naturally  affable  and  popular,  while  others _ 
are  disagreeable  in  spite  of  every  effort  to  please? 
How  closely  allied  to  good  manners  are  habits  of 
cleanliness  and  neatness,  good  morals,  etc.? 


172  THE  STUDY   OF  THF]   CHILD. 

Manners  and  morals  are  not  separated  very  far 
from  each  other.  Rosenkranz  says  that  moral 
culture  is  the  essence  of  social  culture.  As  ex- 
plained in  the  preceding  paragraphs,  all  social 
forms  have  had  their  origin  in  the  desire  to  mul- 
tiply and  enhance  the  pleasures  of  social  inter- 
course. That  desire  rises  from  love  and  sympa- 
thy, the  crowning  graces  of  the  ideal  moral  and 
religious  life.  Prudential  action — that  is,  action 
for  advantage  or  profit  to  the  self — may  be  char- 
acteristic of  much  business  and  social  intercourse. 
If,  however,  the  action  is  prompted  by  the  motive 
of  good  to  others,  it  becomes  moral.  Prudential 
control  suggests  the  idea  of  getting;  moral  control, 
the  idea  of  being.  The  test  of  a  man's  prudence 
is  in  wbat  he  has;  of  his  morals,  in  what  he  is. 
The  distinguishing  characteristics  of  the  former 
are  foresight,  vigilance,  industry,  economy,  cour- 
age, self-possession,  perseverance,  self-interest;  of 
the  latter,  integrity,  sincerity,  fidelity,  forbear- 
ance, sympathy,  gentleness,  temperance,  meek- 
ness, purity,  brotherly  kindness,  charity.  Pru- 
dential control  raises  the  question,  What  profit? 
Moral  control,  What  good?  In  prudential  control 
the  motive  is  always  advantage;  in  moral  control, 
it  may  be  the  good  or  the  bad.  The  former  is 
judged  by  its  attainments;  the  latter  by  its  mo- 
tives. 

The  moral  idea  grows  out  of  the  social.  The 
latter  recognizes  the  relations  of  individuals  to 
each  other.  The  former  recognizes  its  obligation 
to  realize  those  relations.  Whatever  it  can  do  to 
benefit  others  becomes  duty;  whatever  it  can  do 


MANNERS  AND  MOKALS.         .       173 

for  the  self  which  will  enhance  its  power  to  serve 
others  is  also  duty.  It  builds  up  a  personal  ideal 
whose  realization  becomes  a  duty,  a  consuming 
desire.  Actions  in  conformity  with  it  are  called 
right;  those  in  opposition  are  called  wrong.  It  is 
readily  seen  that  moral  emotions,  moral  affections, 
and  moral  desires  develop  with  moral  ideas.  Moral 
control  is  attained  in  the  same  general  way  as 
physical,  intellectual,  and  prudential  control,  and 
is  the  end  of  all  the  others.  Herbart  says  that 
that  education  which  has  not  morality  for  its  su- 
preme end  must  result  in  hopeless  confusion. 

The  child's  impulses  are  to  be  true.  Tempta- 
tion to  be  untrue  comes  when  he  wishes  to  shield 
himself  against  ridicule  or  punishment,  or  to  as- 
tonish somebody  by  a  big  story.  Every  one  has 
noticed  how  particular  a  little  child  is  to  have  the 
minutest  details  of  an  incident  correctly  given. 
If  mother,  in  relating  some  household  incident 
that  occurred  the  day  before,  happens  to  omit  a 
part  of  it  which  she  does  not  care  to  repeat  to 
the  visitor,  little  Mary  is  sure  to  remind  her  of  it 
and  to  tell  it  herself.  Erroneous  or  incomplete 
notions  of  a  thing  at  the  time  of  its  occurrence 
easily  explain  the  tenacity  Avith  which  children 
cling  to  wrong  statements  they  afterward  make 
concerning  it.  In  other  cases,  faulty  memory, 
laziness,  or  indifference  may  explain  what  appears 
to  be  a  deliberate  falsehood.  Whatever  the  cause 
of  misrepresentation,  the  tendency  soon  becomes 
a  habit  unless  promptly  checked.  Once  a  habit, 
it  begins  to  breed  every  sort  of  deception,  and  to 
corrupt   the   whole   moral    nature    of   the    child. 


174  THE  STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

Truth  and  sincerity  are  the  basic  virtues  in  all 
morality.  Without  them  there  can  be  no  moral 
character. 

Only  when  a  child  begins  to  distinguish  be- 
tween right  and  wrong  may  he  be  said  to  have  a 
moral  character.  The  moral  element  begins  to 
appear  when  he  does  what  his  parents  tell  him  to 
do  because  he  loves  and  respects  them;  when  for 
the  same  reason  he  denies  himself  the  pleasure  of 
gratifying  a  desire  to  do  a  forbidden  thing.  It 
certainly  is  not  present  when  he  obeys  them  from 
fear  of  punishment — a  cat  or  a  dog  does  the  same 
thing.  I  once  heard  a  little  girl  say  to  her  mother, 
"  I  did  not  read  that  book,  because  I  thought  you 
would  not  wish  me  to  do  it."  That  is  a  step 
further  in  advance,  but  she  has  made  greater 
progress  when  the  discovery  that  the  book  is  evil 
immediately  begets  aversion  to  it  bcause  her  na- 
ture finds  no  pleasure  in  it. 

Ask  a  dozen  children  why  they  do  certain 
things  which  you  consider  morally  good,  and  care- 
fully note  their  answers.  It  will  not  take  long 
to  discover  that  the  moral  element  lies  not  in  the 
act  itself,  but  in  the  motive,  the  intention.  Dis- 
cover the  causes  which  prompted  the  reasons  given 
by  the  children.  Some  will  cite  the  authority  of 
parent  or  teacher  and  others  will  give  their  own 
reasons  for  their  answers.  Some  will  probably, 
quote  apt  maxims  and  others  maxims  that  have 
no  bearing  whatever  on  the  subject.  How  promi- 
nent is  the  personal  or  selfish  element  in  the  an- 
swers? 

The  moral  instinct  or  impiilse  of  the  child 


MANNERS  AND  MORALS.  175 

strengthens  with  every  effort  he  makes  to  know 
and  to  do  what  is  right.  The  law  of  reaction  is  even 
more  clear  here  than  elsewhere.  Apperception  of 
the  right  in  each  individual  case  is  dependent 
upon  the  moral  character  as  then  organized;  the 
momentum  of  the  impulse  to  its  realization  is 
similarly  dependent.  In  the  beginning  he  may 
be  doing  right  things  impulsively,  or  out  of 
pure  sympathy,  or  from  a  desire  to  please  others, 
or  in  obedience  to  authority,  or  for  personal 
advantage  that  may  come.  Along  with  the 
pleasure  in  right  doing  gradually  develops  the 
sense  of  obligation  and  of  individual  responsi- 
bility. 

Little  progress  in  moral  culture  will  be  mak- 
ing unless  the  child's  ideas  of  right  being  and 
right  doing  are  daily  growing  more  definite  and 
more  clear.  He  must  not  only  love  the  truth, 
but  must  know  what  is  truth;  not  only  desire  to 
be  honest,  but  must  be  able  to  discern  what  is 
honest;  not  only  love  noble  conduct,  but  have 
the  power  to  recognize  it  when  he  sees  it;  not 
only  hold  purity  in  high  esteem,  but  know  in  what 
purity  consists;  not  only  love  his  fellows,  but  also 
understand  his  duties  toward  them.  ]\Iany  people 
are  negatively  good,  but  lack  nearly  every  active 
moral  virtue. 

Conscience  is  tlie  complex  activity  wliich  dis- 
cerns right  and  wrong  and  impels  to  right  action. 
Its  simple  analysis  shows — 

1.  A  general  idea  or  conception  of  right. 

2.  Judgment  as  to  the  conformity  of  a  par- 
ticular act  to  the  general  idea. 

15 


176  THE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

3.  A  feeling  of  obligation  to  do  what  the  judg- 
ment affirms  to  be  right. 

4.  The  effort  to  perform  the  act. 

5.  The  feeling  of  satisfaction  accompanying 
and  following  the  effort,  or  dissatisfaction  if  no 
effort  is  made. 

With  this  analysis  before  ns  it  is  not  difficult 
to  see  more  fully  the  dependence  of  moral  char- 
acter upon  environment  and  education.  The 
problems  of  right  action  are  incomparably  higher 
than  any  problems  of  the  physical  universe.  Their 
solution  in  each  individual  case  requires  the  co- 
operation of  all  the  activities  of  the  self.  How 
important,  then,  that  everything  entering  into  the 
life  of  the  child  should  be  tested  by  its  effect 
upon  his  moral  nature! 

The  reason  for  urging  a  clear  understanding 
of  the  real  nature  of  good  manners  now  hardly 
needs  an  explanation.  If  the  nobleness  of  spirit 
has  been  keeping  pace  with  the  nobleness  of  man- 
ners, the  transition  to  good  morals  is  already 
made.  If  otherwise,  the  child  has  simply  been 
given  the  power  to  cover  up  his  true  nature  and 
to  deceive  his  fellows  at  his  will. 

The  presentation  and  development  of  right 
motives  in  children  is  the  most  delicate  problem 
in  ediication.  The  exercise  of  authority  or  of 
force  will  not  accomplish  it.  Nagging  and  scold- 
ing make  little  progress  toward  it.  Eewards  and 
prizes  will  not  do  much  better.  Advantage  and 
profit  unduly  exalt  self-interest.  Words  of  ap- 
preciation and  of  praise  may  stimulate  to  right 
doing.    Respect  and  affection  for  others  may  serve 


MANNERS  AND  MORALS.  1Y7 

as  a  powerful  restraint  against  evil.  Some  of 
these  will  have  but  a  temporary  effect  in  promot- 
ing right  conduct,  while  all  will  lack  the  essence 
of  the  moral  life — the  impulse  to  do  right  for 
right's  sake  alone,  regardless  of  personal  pleasure, 
personal  profit,  or  of  profit  to  others. 

This  statement  should  not  be  construed  as 
meaning  that  the  motives  named  are  at  all  times 
unwise  and  hurtful.  All  of  them,  not  even  ex- 
cepting the  second,  may  profitably  be  used  in  the 
different  stages  of  the  child's  development.  There 
are  times  when  he  is  incapable  of  appreciating 
any  other  motive  than  that  of  physical  force. 
There  are  other  times  when  he  will  more  quickly 
respond  to  a  promised  reward,  or  to  suggestions 
of  advantage,  or  to  words  of  encouragement,  or  to 
an  appeal  from  one  whom  he  respects  and  loves, 
or  to  the  simple  assurance  that  an  act  in  question 
is  right.  In  the  development  of  the  child's  mo- 
tives, the  following  simple  rules  will  be  found 
valuable: 

1.  Use  negative  or  restrictive  motives  spar- 
ingly, relying  rather  upon  positive  motives  or  in- 
centives. 

2.  Appeal  to  the  motive  which  the  child  can 
appreciate. 

3.  Appeal  constantly  to  the  highest  motive 
the  child  can  appreciate. 

4.  Improve  each  vantage  gained  to  educate 
the  child  to  appreciate  a  higher  motive. 

5.  Eliminate  the  personal  or  selfish  element 
as  rapidly  as  possible. 

6.  Be  patient  for  results.    Eelax  vigilance  only 


178  THE  STUDY  OF  THE   CHILD. 

when   the   impulse   to    the   good    dominates   the 
child's  entire  being. 

Make  the  question  of  motives  a  frequent  study 
in  the  management  of  your  children.  At  what 
age,  if  any,  are  they  disposed  to  ignore  the  au- 
thority of  their  superiors?  In  what  way,  if  any, 
does  the  pubescent  period  affect  the  manners  and 
morals  of  children?  What  effect  has  home  train- 
ing had  upon  them?  Are  you  ruling  some  of 
them  by  sheer  authority  or  by  brute  force?  Are 
you  satisfied  simply  with  their  co-operation,  even 
though  secured  by  a  low  motive,  or  are  you  using 
the  various  means  at  your  command  for  develop- 
ing higher  ideals  for  right  action?  Are  you  ap- 
preciating the  sensitiveness  of  some  of  the  rare 
little  souls  intrusted  to  your  care  and  are  you 
giving  them  that  sympathy  and  counsel  for  which 
they  crave  every  hour  of  the  day?  Are  you  on 
the  alert  for  the  slightest  indication  of  a  better 
spirit  and  a  readier  service  in  each  child?  Are 
you  living  so  blameless  that  every  time  the  child's 
life  touches  yours  he  is  quickened  to  nobler  en- 
deavor? 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

NORMALS  AND   ABNOEMALS. 

Normal  means  natural  or  conformable  to  a 
type.  The  term  may  be  applied  to  a  child  that 
at  birth  has  a  perfect  body  or  to  one  whose  phys- 
ical or  mental  development  is  approximately  the 
same  as  that  of  the  average  child  of  an  equal  age. 
If  imperfectly  formed,  or  if  much  beyond  or  behind 
in  development,  he  is  called  abnormal.  The  term 
abnormal  may  be  applied  to  a  child  who  is  im- 
usually  bright  for  his  age  as  well  as  to  one  who 
is  unusually  stupid;  to  one  who  is  excessively 
large  for  his  age  as  well  as  to  one  who  is  par- 
ticularly small.  It  is  also  applied  to  any  one  who 
is  misshapen  in  any  way,  or  who  has  unnatural 
enlargement  or  atrophy  of  any  physical  organ. 
The  variation  should  be  sufficiently  marked  to  be 
readily  noticeable  in  each  case  before  the  term 
abnormal  can  be  properly  applied. 

Unusually  bright  children  are  often  called 
precocious;  unusually  dull,  defective.  The  term 
exceptional  is  applied  to  both  classes  by  many 
writers.  The  child  of  six  years  of  age  that  knows 
as  much  as  the  average  child  of  ten  is  as  much  an 
object  of  interest  and  inquiry  as  the  child  at  ten 
that  knows  no  more  than  the  average  child  at 


180  THE   STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

six.  There  is  scarcely  a  schoolroom  anywhere  in 
which  both  are  not  found.  Some  cliildren  have 
fine  memories,  and  yet  seem  utterly  wanting  in 
judgment;  others  remember  practically  every- 
thing they  hear,  but  can  recall  little  that  they  see. 
Occasionally  a  child  is  met  that  has  prodigious 
mathematical  ability  and  yet  can  not  be  made  to 
understand  the  merest  rudiments  of  language  or 
of  science. 

Many  children  seem  to  be  perfectly  formed 
externally,  and  yet  are  seriously  defective  in  one 
or  more  of  the  special  senses  or  in  some  of  the 
vital  organs.  While  the  per  cent  of  children  seri- 
ously defective  at  birth  is  small,  the  per  cent  more 
or  less  deficient  is  much  larger  than  many  peo- 
ple suppose.  Occasionally  a  family  is  found  in 
which  every  child  is  defective  physically,  the  de- 
fect being  of  the  eye  in  one,  of  the  ear  in  another, 
possibly  of  both  in  a  third,  of  motor  control  in  a 
fourth,  a  defect  of  the  brain  or  of  some  other 
organ  in  a  fifth.  In  many  families  but  one  defect- 
ive child  may  be  found,  the  others  being  perfectly 
formed.  In  some  families  a  child  with  a  serious 
physical  blemish  has  not  been  known  for  genera- 
tions. 

Some  physically  deformed  children  seem  to  be 
little  more  than  freaks,  so  subtle  are  the  causes 
producing  the  deformities.  Several  cases  coming 
within  my  personal  knowledge  are  so  unusual  on 
both  sides  of  the  family  that  the  recognized  laws 
of  heredity  do  not  account  for  them.  In  some 
cases  the  failure  of  certain  bones  to  ossify  proper- 
ly, the  arrested  development  of  the  cerebral  tis- 


NORMALS  AND  ABNORMALS.  181 

sues,  the  paralysis  of  the  motor  nervous  system, 
the  withering  or  shrinking  of  an  arm  or  a  leg, 
the  atrophy  of  a  special  sense,  seems  to  be  due  to 
some  adventitious  or  accidental  cause,  as  is  fre- 
quently seen  in  other  animals  and  in  plants.  In 
many  children  the  physical  deformities  are  easily 
traceable  to  measles,  mumps,  spotted  fever,  spinal 
meningitis,  typhoid  fever,  whooping-cough,  scar- 
let fever,  scrofula,  smallpox,  and  other  diseases. 
In  sucli  cases,  the  physical  deformity  is  not  usu- 
ally accompanied  by  an  impairment  of  the  mental 
faculties.  Investigations  show  that  in  a  large  ma- 
jority of  cases  spinal  curvature,  bandy  legs,  pigeon 
toes,  and  distortions  of  similar  character  are  due 
to  bad  habits  in  sitting,  standing,  or  walking  in 
childhood.  Not  a  few  of  them  may  be  charged 
to  the  unsatisfactory  desks  in  use  in  the  schools. 
Inherited  weakness  may  be  the  remote  cause  in 
many  cases,  but  proper  care  might  have  prevented 
serious  perversion. 

Inherited  diseases  and  deformities  may  be 
traced  to  one  of  three  general  causes:  a  similar 
disease  or  deformity  in  one  or  both  parents,  con- 
stitutional weakness  in  one  or  both,  or  bad  habits 
in  one  or  both.  Instances  without  number  might 
be  cited  to  prove  the  regularity  with  which  the 
law  of  heredity  transmits  the  infirmities  of  the 
parents  to  the  children.  Its  significance  would 
be  most  appalling  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that 
the  same  law  governs  the  transmission  of  physical 
excellence,  and  that  wise  treatment  may  largely 
overcome  the  evils  of  heredity.  Parents  conscious 
of  their  own  constitutional  tendencies  have  by  a 


1S2  THE  STUDY  OF   THE  CHILD. 

rigid  system  of  hygiene  maintained  such  a  vigor- 
ous physical  tone  in  tliemselves  and  in  tlieir  chil- 
dren that  the  prospective  affections  have  been  en- 
tirely averted.  The  presence  of  any  constitutional 
or  chronic  malady  in  either  parent  is  always  evi- 
dence of  its  probable  appearance  in  the  children, 
and  if  this  study  does  nothing  more  than  put 
those  in  authority  over  them  on  the  alert  for  the 
discovery  and  for  the  intelligent  treatment  of 
such  cases,  it  will  deserve  well  of  mankind.  It  is 
an  interesting  fact  that  certain  apparently  oppo- 
site physical  temperaments,  though  constitution- 
ally weak,  bring  forth  strong  and  healthy  off- 
spring. This  tendency  to  mutual  correction  shows 
itself  even  in  trivial  irregularities.  A  neighbor's 
nose  pointed  distinctly  to  the  right.  The  nose 
of  his  wife  pointed  to  the  left.  The  daughter's 
nose  was  normal! 

The  effect  of  the  habits  and  occupations  of 
the  parents  upon  their  children  needs  special  em- 
phasis. A  few  generations  of  musicians  insure 
the  fingers  of  the  coming  children  to  be  well 
adapted  to  play  upon  musical  instruments.  The 
children  of  the  lacemakers  inherit  that  delicacy 
and  suppleness  of  the  muscles  of  the  hand  by 
which  their  ancestors  have  ever  excelled  their 
competitors  in  the  markets  of  the  world.  Insur- 
ance companies  not  only  lay  great  stress  upon  the 
constitutional  tendencies  of  a  candidate's  ances- 
tors, but  also  upon  his  personal  habits  as  well. 
Anything  that  affects  a  man's  vitality  affects  that 
of  his  future  offspring  also.  The  long  train  of 
physical  infirmities  in  children  that  may  easily 


NORMALS  AND  ABNORMALS.  183 

be  traced  to  narcotic  habits  in  one  or  both  parents 
is  well  known.  The  responsibility  that  a  per- 
sistent user  of  alcohol  or  tobacco  assumes  is  now 
so  clearly  established  that  it  seems  superfluous  to 
appeal  to  statistics  concerning  it. 

In  the  matter  of  eyesight  alone,  Dr.  T.  H. 
Dinsmore  discovers  thirty-one  defectives  out  of 
eighty-six  children  whose  fathers  were  addicted  to 
alcoholic  beverages.  Out  of  three  hundred  and 
ninety-nine  children  whose  fathers  used  tobacco 
before  and  after  marriage,  two  hundred  and 
twenty-four  had  weak  eyes.  The  inquiries  in- 
eluded  children  of  old  soldiers  who  used  tobacco 
before  their  children  were  born,  and  it  was  found 
that  one  hundred  and  ten  out  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty-six  examined  had  impaired  vision.  It  is  con- 
ceded that  some  of  the  responsibility  should  be 
attributed  to  the  hardships  of  the  field,  and  pos- 
sibly to  other  causes,  but  the  summary  contains 
a  plain  warning.  One  of  Dugdale's  Juke  tables 
shows  that  but  one  out  of  nineteen  temperate 
Jukes  was  diseased,  and  that  ten  out  of  thirteen 
intemperate  were  in  ill  health.  Dr.  Tatham,  the 
British  registrar-general,  believes  that  the  use  of 
alcohol  is  the  chief  cause  of  excessive  death  rates, 
and  says  that  the  liquor  trades  are  fatal  to  those 
who  engage  in  them.  His  figures  show  the  clergy 
to  be  the  healthiest  people  in  the  world. 

I\  Physical  degeneration  in  parents,  whether 
caused  by  alcoholism,  the  opium  habit,  licentious- 
ness, or  excesses  of  any  other  kind,  seldom  fails 
to  manifest  itself  in  some  way  in  the  bodies  of  its 
progeny.     Sometimes  the  subtle  poison  does  not 


184  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

begin  its  work  until  manhood  or  middle  life,  but 
it  often  discloses  its  presence  in  the  cradle.  Nerv- 
ous disorders,  scrofulous  tendencies,  proneness  to 
epilepsy,  pulmonic  weakness,  and  kindred  affec- 
tions, with  their  mournful  train  of  miseries,  tell 
too  plainly  that  somebody  has  violated  the  laws 
of  Nature.  Joseph  Cook  quotes  Oliver  Wendell 
Holmes  as  saying,  in  response  to  the  declaration 
that  any  disease  may  be  cured  if  a  physician  is 
called  early  enough,  that  the  statement  is  true, 
"  but  '  early  enough '  would  usually  mean  two 
hundred  years  in  advance."  Miss  Clark,  a  high 
authority,  says:  "  The  imbecile  is  the  result  of 
corrupt  living,  frequently  of  guilt,  sometimes  of 
a  line  of  ancestry  unbrightened  for  a  generation 
by  a  single  responsible  moral  individual.  In  every 
case  where  a  child  has  not  been  made  imbecile 
through  some  prenatal  shock,  accident,  or  sick- 
ness, somewhere  in  the  family  annals  there  have 
been  opium  eating,  immoral  living,  drunkenness, 
insanity,  imbecility,  or  actual  crime — perhaps 
all."  Thirty-four  per  cent  of  the  imbecile  chil- 
dren are  the  immediate  offspring  of  intemperate 
parents. 

Inherited  physical  deformity  means  mental 
deformity,  particularly  when  the  former  is  an 
affection  of  the  cerebral  or  sensory  nerves,  or  even 
of  the  motor  organism.  So  positively  has  this 
been  demonstrated  that  in  the  treatment  of  feeble- 
minded and  insane  children,  as  well  as  of  adults, 
physicians  attempt  to  correct  physical  disorder 
first.  With  the  normal  physical  functions  re- 
stored, mental  equilibrium  also  ordinarily  returns. 


NORMALS  AND  ABNORMALS.  185 

Maudsley  says,  "  No  one  nowadays  who  is  engaged 
in  the  treatment  of  mental  disease  doubts  that  he 
has  to  do  with  the  disordered  function  of  a  bodily 
organ — of  the  brain."  Uf er  asserts  that  "  by  far 
the  larger  part  of  mental  disturbance  in  children 
is  due  to  bodily  complaints;  a  good  proportion  of 
these  can  be  cured,  whereas,  if  ignored,  incurable 
diseases  will  arise." 

The  gradations  from  the  strictly  normal  mind 
to  the  completely  unbalanced  mind  follow  very 
closely  the  gradations  from  the  perfect  nervous 
organism  to  that  state  of  the  brain  in  which  all 
cerebral  action  is  uncontrolled  and  uncontrollable. 
Intellectually  speaking,  the  term  normal  is  usu- 
ally applied  to  a  variety  of  minds  even  slightly 
defective  in  some  directions,  just  as  the  term 
normal  is  applied  to  bodies  which  are  approxi- 
mately perfect.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that 
every  case  varying  from  the  normal,  inside  and 
outside  the  range  just  named,  is,  if  not  merely 
slow  in  development,  just  so  much  away  toward 
imbecility  or  insanity.  The  causes  leading  to 
mental  defects  are,  in  general,  the  same  as  those 
already  mentioned  as  leading  to  physical  defects. 
Some  investigators  think  that  mental  traits  are 
often  directly  transmitted  by  inheritance,  though 
others  maintain  that  the  physical  traits  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  transmission  in  all  cases.  How- 
ever that  may  be,  mental  activity  and  mental 
growth  are  dependent  upon  the  facility  and  ex- 
actness witii  which  the  physical  organism  per- 
forms its  functions.  If  any  of  the  sense  organs 
be  defective,  there  must  be  a  corresponding  lack 


186  THE   STUDY   OF   THE  CHILD. 

of  perception  of  the  external  world,  and  a  conse- 
quent retardation  in  mental  development.  Super- 
intendent Klock,  after  a  thorough  examination 
of  the  pupils  in  the  Helena  city  schools,  says  that 
"  in  cases  where  children  have  attended  school 
regularly  for  from  eight  to  twelve  years,  and  are 
from  six  months  to  two  years  behind  in  their 
grades,  the  loss  of  time  is  due  almost  invariably 
to  defective  eyesight  or  hearing,  one  or  both." 
The  mind  is  dependent  upon  the  senses  for  the 
material  which  it  elaborates  into  knowledge.  Its 
higher  activities  develop  normally  only  as  the 
lower  supply  material  in  abundance  and  variety, 
hence  the  disadvantage  under  which  every  sense- 
defective  labors. 

Physical  and  mental  defectives  are,  generally 
speaking,  moral  defectives.  It  is  well  to  remem- 
ber here  that  a  moral  defective  is  not  necessarily 
actively  bad.  He  may  be  simply  motiveless,  or 
without  impulse  to  moral  action  of  any  kind. 
Four  classes  of  morally  defective  children  may  be 
recognized: 

1.  The  harmless,  passive  sort,  little  energy, 
little  strength  in  desire  of  any  kind. 

2.  Those  inclined  to  the  good,  though  with 
little  will  power,  easily  misled. 

3.  The  stubborn,  evil-minded,  cruel,  sensu- 
ous passions  prominent,  intellectually  dull. 

4.  The  cunning,  dishonest,  inclined  to  petty 
thieving  and  to  sneaking  tricks,  intellectually 
bright. 

All  these  classes  of  moral  abnormals,  more 
or  less  defined,  are  often  found  in  one  school- 


NORMALS  AND  ABNORMALS.  187 

room.  In  a  few  localities  they  embrace  a  dan- 
gerously large  proportion  of  the  school  children. 
As  a  consequence  their  management  becomes  a 
most  perplexing  problem.  The  intelligent  treat- 
ment of  moral  defects  must  ever  depend  upon  a 
knowledge  of  their  origin. 

Pathologists  and  criminologists  generally  agree 
that  the  law  of  heredity  accounts  for  moral  tem- 
peraments as  fully  as  for  the  physical  and  intel- 
lectual. The  authenticated  story  of  the  Juke 
family  already  mentioned  may  be  approximately 
duplicated  a  thousand  times  over.  In  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  "  the  descendants  of  one  man, 
a  hunter  and  fisher,  a  hard  drinker,  jolly  and  com- 
panionable, averse  to  steady  toil,  working  hard  by 
spurts  and  idling  by  turns,  becoming  blind  in  his 
old  age,  and  entailing  his  blindness  upon  his  chil- 
dren and  grandchildren,"  contributed  one  hun- 
dred and  forty  criminals  and  offenders,  including 
seven  murderers.  This  showing  does  not  include 
the  long  list  of  paupers,  harlots,  roustabouts, 
drunkards,  petty  thieves  undetected,  liars,  cheats, 
disturbers  of  the  peace,  etc.  Eibot  tells  of  an  edu- 
cated man  who  secretly  indulged  in  the  alcoholic 
habit.  Only  one  of  his  five  children  lived  to  ma- 
turity. That  one  was  cruel  almost  from  birth, 
and  delighted  in  torturing  animals  in  every  con- 
ceivable way.  He  soon  proved  physically  and 
mentally  feeble,  and  at  nineteen  went  to  the  in- 
sane asylum.  Morel  examined  one  hundred  and 
fifty  "  children  of  the  commune,"  ranging  from 
ten  to  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  says:  "I  am 
confirmed  in  my  previous  convictions  as  to  the 


188  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

baneful  effects  produced  by  alcohol,  not  only  in 
the  individuals  who  use  this  detestable  drink  to 
excess,  but  also  in  their  descendants.  On  their 
depraved  physiognomy  is  impressed  the  threefold 
stamp  of  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  de- 
generacy." 

The  transmission  of  certain  kinds  of  immoral 
instincts  is  also  clearly  established.  In  some 
families  it  is  lying;  in  others,  cattle-stealing, 
homicide,  burglary,  pocket-picking,  quarreling, 
incendiarism,  dishonesty,  forgery,  licentiousness, 
etc.  Eecently  a  newspaper  stated  that  a  noted 
cattle  thief  had  been  killed,  and  added  signifi- 
cantly that  several  other  members  of  his  family 
are  now  serving  sentences  in  the  penitentiary  for 
cattle-stealing. 

But  heredity  is  not  the  only  force  effectively 
at  work  in  a  child's  early  life  corrupting  his  moral 
nature.  Environment,  as  a  deadly  nightshade, 
insidiously  pours  its  venom  into  his  heart. 
Breathing  the  fetid  air  of  an  ill-ventilated,  drunk- 
en home,  hearing  nothing  but  oaths  and  obscene 
words  from  dissolute  and  vicious  parents,  mingling 
with  foul-mouthed,  mischief-plotting  companions, 
taught  that  to  lie  and  steal  and  fight  make  the 
ideal  man,  is  it  a  wonder  that  the  boy  enters 
school  "  morally  abnormal "  ?  His  hereditary 
tendency  -being  enforced  by  such  environment 
and  training,  it  were  a  miracle  if  it  were  other- 
wise. From  such  a  home  as  that  all  the  way  up 
to  the  ideal  fireside  are  homes  lacking  in  varying 
degrees  the  spirit  and  assistance  necespary  to  build 
up  true  moral  character.    Put  a  child  blest  with 


NORMALS  AND  ABNORMALS.  189       \ 

a  royal  inheritance  in  such  an  environment,  and 
what  must  be  his  fate? 

This  much  space  has  been  given  to  ilhistrate 
the  causes  that  produce  weak  and  abnormal  chil- 
dren in  the  hope  that  sufficient  interest  may  be 
aroused  to  insure  a  more  exhaustive  study  of  the 
unfortunates  who  ever  appeal  to  us  for  sympathy 
and  help.  The  average  teacher  and  parent  is  too 
much  disposed  to  ignore  the  presence  of  these  fun- 
damental defects  in  his  children,  and  to  treat  them 
with  a  harshness  that  aggravates  rather  than  re- 
lieves the  infirmity.  They  overlook  the  law  that 
the  slightly  abnormal  tendencies  of  early  child- 
hood, unless  intelligently  corrected,  may  even  in 
early  manhood  bring  utter  ruin  to  body  and  mind. 
Two  seemingly  parallel  straight  lines  may  le  lut  an 
inch  apart  at  their  origin  and  yet  he  ten  feet  apart 
at  the  end  of  a  mile!  Sufficient  has  been  said  to 
show  that  defectives  are  common  enough  to  re- 
quire that  all  persons  intrusted  Avith  the  care  and 
culture  of  children  should  familiarize  themselves 
with  the  peculiarities  of  each  child's  physical,  men- 
tal, and  moral  nature,  and  treat  it  as  its  individual 
needs  demand.  The  average  child  has  been  given 
too  much  attention;  the  exceptionals,  both  above 
and  below  the  average,  too  little.  There  has  been 
a  vast  waste  in  our  attempts  to  teach  children  in 
the  mass  rather  than  as  individuals;  to  force  them 
to  come  up  to  certain  ideal  standards  rather  than 
to  take  the  time  to  find  and  to  apply  the  means 
which  their  individual  natures  demand.  Igno- 
rance and  thoughtlessness  on  the  part  of  parents 
and  teachers  will  not  be  excused  much  longer. 


190  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

Many  teachers  accidentally  discover  facts  con- 
cerning their  pupils  after  they  have  done  them 
great  injustice.  A  personal  friend  tells  me  that 
one  day  a  pupil  asked  for  the  repetition  of  an  ex- 
planation of  a  principle  which  he  had  just  given. 
He  had  taken  much  time  and  great  care  in  giv- 
ing it  and  thought  all  understood  it.  With  con- 
scious impatience,  he  exclaimed,  "  I  should  think 
that  even  an  idiot  could  understand  that."  Her 
eyes  filled  with  tears  and,  as  the  class  filed  out, 
she  remained  in  her  chair  sobbing  convulsively. 
He  apologized  for  his  language,  and  asked  why 
she  was  so  deeply  affected.  She  replied:  "Sir, 
my  mother  is  in  an  insane  asylum,  and  we  chil- 
dren are  in  constant  dread  lest  we  may  go  there 
too.  I  feared  you  might  be  telling  the  truth,  and 
that  I  am  possibly  already  an  idiot."  Though  he 
has  taught  many  years  since,  he  assures  me  that 
he  has  never  again  spoken  unkindly  to  a  pupil. 

Some  years  ago  a  teacher  in  one  of  the  grades 
was  annoyed  by  the  slowness  of  one  of  his  pupils, 
and  in  desperation  took  her  by  the  back  of  the 
neck  and  shook  her  severely.  She  had  been  af- 
flicted a  long  time  with  spinal  weakness,  but  at 
the  opening  of  the  year  her  parents  hoped  her 
sufficiently  convalescent  to  enter  school  again. 
Her  slowness  was  caused  by  her  malady  and  her 
intense  desire  not  to  do  anything  which  might 
cause  its  return.  No  wonder  that  was  an  anxious 
night  in  that  household!  In  a  spelling  class  the 
other  day  I  asked  the  students  to  criticise  the 
work  of  their  classmates,  and  to  mark  the  mis- 
spelled words.     One  of  them  complained  to  me 


NORMALS  AND  ABNORMALS.  191 

tliat  lier  critic  had  marked  three  words  in  her 
writing  speller  that  were  correctly  spelled,  though 
they  had  been  spelled  aloud  for  her  guidance.  The 
next  day  I  took  occasion  to  speak  of  the  matter, 
assuring  them  that  each  critic  would  be  held  re- 
sponsible for  his  work.  As  the  class  was  dis- 
missed, the  critic  mentioned  came  to  me  and  con- 
fessed. I  asked  why  she  did  it.  She  replied:  "  My 
eyes!  I  suppose  it  must  be  my  eyes.^'  Examination 
showed  that  she  was  right,  and  her  many  blun- 
ders were  all  explained.  I  had  occasion  once  to 
reprimand,  for  the  third  or  fourth  time,  a  young 
woman  who  had  been  giving  me  much  anxiety  by 
her  repeated  indiscretions.  She  smiled  as  I  spoke 
of  her  offenses,  and  giggled  as  I  assured  her  that 
she  was  at  the  point  of  suspension.  In  surprise, 
I  asked  why  she  received  my  reproof  with  such 
levity.  She  answered  that  often  when  she  wanted 
to  cry  she  laughed,  and  that  often  when  she 
wanted  to  laugh  she  cried.  With  a  word  or  two, 
I  excused  her  from  the  room  and  sought  further 
light.  It  came  from  a  friend,  who  said:  "That 
young  woman  has  suffered  from  childhood  with 
epilepsy.  For  a  year  or  more  she  had  been  so 
nearly  well  that  her  parents  were  assured  last 
summer  by  her  physician  that  if  she  could  be 
sent  among  strangers  for  awhile  she  would  prob- 
ably forget  her  affliction,  and  in  her  new  sur- 
roundings attain  perfect  health  and  self-control. 
She  undoubtedly  told  you  the  truth  about  her 
crying  and  laughing  muscles  becoming  crossed  at 
times.  Epileptics  can  hardly  be  expected  to  be 
either  intellectually  or  morally  normal." 
16 


192  THE  STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

A  little  fellow  who  was  trying  "  awfully  hard  " 
to  be  good  said  to  his  teacher  one  day:  "  It  is 
easy  for  you  to  be  good.  Your  father  was  a  min- 
ister. My  father  was  bad,  and  drank  and  swore 
and  gambled,  and  sometimes  I  feel  that  I  must 
do  just  as  he  did."  A  young  colored  girl  in  the 
South  said  to  a  noble  woman  who  had  befriended 
her,  "  When  I  see  how  wicked  so  many  of  my 
kindred  are,  I  often  wonder  whether  it  can  be 
possible  that  I  shall  always  live  an  upright  life." 
These  children,  and  thousands  of  others  like 
them,  are  in  the  schools  of  every  State  in  the 
Union.  And  yet  you  often  hear  people  speak  of 
"the  sickly,  sentimental  doctrine  of  heredity!" 

But  in  addition  to  these  there  is  also  a  great 
army  of  children  more  or  less  belated  in  develop- 
ment along  some  of  the  lines  heretofore  men- 
tioned. The  bright,  active  child  is  encouraged 
and  given  a  better  chance  than  his  sluggish  broth- 
er. The  natural  modesty  of  one  and  the  froward- 
ness  of  another  may  explain  the  difference  in  their 
mental  growth,  for  one  has  hesitated  to  improve 
an  opportunity  without  encouragement,  while  the 
other  boldly  took  advantage  of  it.  The  former 
fails  to  get  the  experience  he  needs,  while  the 
latter  may  gain  even  more  than  he  needs.  One 
child  is  sent  to  school  because  he  likes  to  go,  and 
another  is  kept  at  home  occasionally  because  he 
likes  work  better  than  school.  Ere  long  he  loses 
class  standing  and,  after  a  few  spasmodic  efforts 
at  attendance,  drops  out  of  school  forever.  This 
whole  chapter  is  a  special  plea  for  the  children 
that  for  the  various  reasons  cited  do  not  get  so 


NORMALS  AND   ABNORMALS.  193 

good  a  start  as  some  of  their  more  fortunate  broth- 
ers and  sisters.  Some  of  them  are  the  rarest  spir- 
its that  ever  breathed,  but  all,  no  matter  what 
their  ancestry  or  what  their  talents,  are  entitled 
to  that  sympathy  and  encouragement  which  will 
give  them  an  equal  chance  with  their  fellows  in 
the  struggle  for  life.  The  abnormal  tendencies 
of  the  race  are  to  be  corrected  by  purifying  the 
blood  and  perfecting  the  powers  of  the  individual 
child. 

The  suggestions  already  offered  in  the  various 
chapters  will  guide  in  many  of  these  inquiries,  but 
a  few  additional  ones  are  here  given:  Note  the 
peculiarities  in  each  child  and  seek  for  their 
causes.  If  a  child  is  disposed  to  be  active,  does 
his  activity  have  a  purpose,  or  is  it  evidently  aim- 
less and  purposeless?  Discover  whether  he  is 
sensitive  or  hysterical;  whether  he  "  goes  to 
pieces  "  easily;  whether  he  is  exceedingly  voluble, 
but  apparently  knows  little  about  anything; 
whether,  though  apparently  trying,  he  is  failing 
to  make  any  progress  in  the  work  assigned  him; 
whether  he  is  wanting  in  ideals  and  motives; 
whether  he  is  interested  in  trivial  things  or  in 
matters  of  importance;  whether  the  shape  of  his 
head  is  suggestive  of  feeble  cranial  capacity; 
whether  the  face  indicates  unusual  cunning  or 
shrewdness;  whether  the  mouth  and  lips  provoke 
g,  suspicion  of  vulgarity  or  sensuality;  whether  he 
is  retiring,  sullen,  despondent,  sanguine,  persever- 
ing, standing  still,  or  growing;  whether  he  is  de- 
fective in  speech  or  muscular  control.  Whether 
he  is  conscious  of  his  defects  and  whether  his 


194:  THE   STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

fellow-pupils  are  treating  him  in  such  a  way  as 
to  increase  his  embarrassment. 

The  question  frequently  arises  as  to  the 
amount  of  time  that  should  be  given  to  defective 
or  delinquent  children.  The  answer  must  be 
found  in  the  needs  of  all.  The  interests  of  aU 
should  not  be  sacrificed  for  the  benefit  of  the  few. 
The  aggressive,  ambitious  children  must  not  be 
held  back  until  the  slow  ones  catch  up.  Absolute 
uniformity  is  impossible,  much  less  desirable.  If 
reasonable  time  and  effort  fail  to  accomplish  any- 
thing with  a  child,  he  should  be  put  exclusively 
under  individual  supervision  or  sent  to  a  school 
devoted  to  serious  and  obstinate  defectives.  It 
should  not  be  supposed  that  child  study  means 
the  neglect  of  Nature's  favored  ones.  It  means 
such  an  acquaintance  with  every  child  as  will 
enable  the  parent  and  teacher  to  adopt  such  meth- 
ods of  instruction  and  to  produce  such  environ- 
ments as  will  insure  the  most  rapid  progress  pos- 
sible in  the  development  of  all  classes. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

STAGES    OF   GKOWTH,   FATIGUE   POINT,    ETC. 

For  lack  of  space  several  important  subjects 
intimately  related  to  the  child's  growth  and  well- 
being  must  be  treated  with  great  brevity. 

Infancy,  childhood,  and  youth  are  the  three 
stages  through  Avhich  the  child  passes  in  his  move- 
ment toward  manhood.  Sense-perception  is  the 
chief  characteristic  of  his  intellectual  life  in  in- 
fancy, memory  and  imagination  become  active  in 
childhood,  thinking  and  reasoning  predominate 
in  youth.  Infancy  is  the  stage  of  dependence. 
It'  is  spent  at  home,  because  of  the  individual 
sympathy  and  individual  supervision  then  re- 
quired. The  period  of  childhood  in  a  general  way 
may  be  said  to  extend  from  the  fifth  to  the  twelfth 
year.  At  the  beginning  of  this  period  the  child 
is  supposed  to  have  attained  sufficient  develop- 
ment and  self-control  to  enable  him  to  mingle 
with  children  outside  of  his  own  household  with- 
out much  personal  supervision;  to  enable  him  to 
take  care  of  himself  under  ordinary  circumstances; 
and  to  warrant  his  being  sent  to  school.  Youth 
begins  with  the  pubescent  period,  at  about  the 
age  of  twelve.  Independence  and  restlessness 
under  restraint  manifest  themselves  here  more  em- 

195 


196  ^THE  STUDY  OF  THE   CHILD. 

phatically  than  in  either  preceding  period.  The 
new  impulses  which  the  radical  physical  changes 
at  this  time  beget  start  the  youth  into  new  lines 
of  inquiry  and  investigation,  not  infrequently  de- 
veloping irreverence,  heedlessness,  selfishness,  and 
disobedience  to  an  unfortunate  degree.  The 
grades  in  the  public  schools  most  diificult  to  gov- 
ern are  those  embracing  children  from  eleven  to 
fourteen  years  of  age. 

Each  of  these  three  periods  has  several  other 
characteristics  peculiar  to  itself  which  observation 
will  reveal.  The  way  in  which  the  child  adjusts 
himself  to  the  new  environment  as  he  leaves  home 
to  enter  the  schoolroom  is  an  interesting  and  in- 
structive study.  This  is  one  of  the  critical  periods 
of  his  life,  and  for  the  successful  transition  dis- 
creet management  is  imperative.  In  many  cases 
the  approach  of  the  pubescent  period  may  be  dis- 
covered through  the  mental  changes  in  the  child, 
even  before  the  physical  changes  are  manifest. 
The  dispositions  of  infancy  and  childhood,  wheth- 
er good  or  bad,  now  usually  become  positively 
prominent,  and  character  more  clearly  defines. 
Some  surprising  changes  in  mental  power  also 
occur.  A  child  with  a  poor  memory  may  sud- 
denly show  rare  ability  in  remembering  things; 
one  sluggish  in  perception  throughout  childhood 
may  become  apt  in  discernment;  one  with  a  vivid 
imagiriatiori  may  become  indifferent  and  prosy; 
one  of  habitually  happy  disposition  may  show 
symptoms  of  discontent  or  melancholy.  If  the 
transition  be  healthy  and  natural,  the  intelligent 
education  and  training  of  infancy  and  childhood 


STAGES  OF  GROWTH,  FATIGUE  POINT.    197 

begin  at  once  to  show  results  in  superior  judg- 
ment, in  clear  moral  conceptions,  and  in  a  well- 
balanced  will.  These  three  stages  in  the  child's 
development  can  not  be  definitely  assigned  to  the 
limits  mentioned,  but  they  are  sufficiently  ap- 
proximate to  assist  parent  and  teacher  to  a  better 
understanding  of  the  more  critical  years  in  the 
child's  life  and  to  suggest  the  need  for  a  thorough 
understanding  of  ways  and  means  adapted  to  each 
stage. 

Children's  ideals  and  motives  are  constantly 
changing  and  methods  of  instruction  and  of  man- 
agement must  change  with  them.  Many  a  youth 
is  alienated  from  his  father  because  his  father  does 
not  understand  him.  He  has  failed  to  note  that 
the  child  is  a  child  no  longer,  but  that  he  is  reach- 
ing up  into  manhood  and  is  thinking  and  reason- 
ing for  himself;  that  he  is  on  that  account  entitled 
to  have  his  own  views  and  preferences  heard  with 
reasonable  consideration.  Many  a  youth  goes  out 
into  the  world  for  the  sympathy  and  fellowship 
that  are  denied  him  at  home. 

The  stage  of  the  child's  development  should 
control  in  the  administration  of  punishment.  In- 
discriminate punishment  is  worse  than  the  indis- 
criminate use  of  medicine,  however  bad  that  may 
be.  The  old  idea  that  retribution  should  be  the 
controlling  aim  in  the  punishment  of  children  is 
as  cruel  as  it  is  unreasonable.  That  idea  with  very 
little  suggestion  comes  into  more  or  less  promi- 
nence in  the  mind  of  the  child  anyhow.  Punish- 
ment should  in  general  be  administered  for  the 
purpose  of  quickening  the  child's  perception  of 


198  THE  STUDY   OF  THE  CHILD. 

right  and  wrong  and  of  assisting  him  to  resist 
temptation.  Children  err  more  often  from  lack 
of  discernment  than  from  lack  of  desire  to  do  right. 
They  are  only  learning  what  is  right  and  what  is 
wrong.  Their  characters  are  in  the  formative 
state  and  the  spirit  of  helpfulness  should  always 
govern  the  inculcation  of  motives,  whether  through 
the  positive  forces  of  instruction  and  guidance  or 
through  the  negative  force  of  punishment.  As  a 
means  of  correction,  punishment  should  serve  for 
a  temporary  purpose  only.  The  great  and  ever- 
active  forces  in  character-building  are  sympathy 
and  counsel,  not  punishment,  as  already  explained 
in  the  chapter  on  Manners  and  Morals.  Methods 
of  correction  which  are  slowly  driving  the  child 
away  from  parent  or  teacher  are  their  own  con- 
demnation. Nothing  but  that  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  the  individual  child  demanded  in  the 
foregoing  chapters  will  suffice  for  the  wise  de- 
termination of  the  necessity  for  punishment  and 
of  the  kind  of  punishment  that  will  prove  most 
effective.  Differences  in  disposition,  in  physical 
temperament,  in  sex,  in  stage  of  development, 
in  home  life,  in  previous  education,  in  motive, 
etc.,  should  control  in  all  cases.  .  There  is,  un- 
fortunately, a  widespread  tendency  to  set  up  a 
multitude  of  little  rules,  for  whose  infraction 
the  children  are  punished  as  impulse  prompts. 
A  late  report  shows  that  probably  five  times  as 
many  punishments,  great  and  small,  are  inflicted 
as  a  result  of  a  petty  whim  or  for  the  violation  of 
rules  of  propriety  as  for  violation  of  the  weightier 
laws  embraced  in  the  Ten  Commandments.    Chil- 


STAGES  OP  GROWTH,   FATIGUE   POINT.  199 

dren  are  far  more  reasonable  than  is  generally 
supposed;  if  this  be  kept  in  mind,  the  problem 
of  punishment  solves  with  less  difficulty. 

Tlie  fatigue  point  is  a  profitable  subject  in  child 
study.  It  has  already  been  incidentally  mentioned 
in  connection  with  the  eye.  If  you  look  for  a  few 
moments  at  a  small  red  spot  on  a  light-colored 
object  and  then  look  at  a  white  surface,  you  will 
see  a  green  spot  of  about  the  same  shape  and  size 
as  the  former.  This  phenomenon  is  explained  by 
the  fact  that  in  looking  intently  at  the  red  spot 
the  capacity  of  the  nerve  cells  for  appreciating 
the  red  color  is  slightly  exhausted,  while  their 
capacity  to  appreciate  the  green,  its  complemen- 
tary color,  is  not  called  into  exercise  at  all.  When 
the  eye  turns  to  the  white  surface,  the  capacity 
to  appreciate  the  green  being  more  acute,  it 
promptly  brings  that  color  into  prominence  at  the 
expense  of  the  red.  The  regular  tick,  tick,  of  the 
clock  becomes  tick,  tack,  because  of  the  slight  dif- 
ference in  the  exhaustive  effects  upon  the  auditory 
nerve  cells.  The  sense  of  taste  may  grow  tem- 
porarily obtuse  to  any  substance  because  its  nerve 
cells  also  become  weary  from  the  demands  made 
upon  them.  This  law  of  fatigue  governs  every 
organ  of  the  body,  including  the  muscles  and  the 
whole  cerebro-spinal  system.  Eest  and  sleep  are 
as  necessary  to  the  child's  health  and  development 
as  exercise.  It  is  doubtful  whether  he  can  get  too 
much  sleep  in  infancy;  few  take  too  much  in  child- 
hood. Both  rest  and  sleep  have  a  higher  purpose 
than  simply  to  relieve  the  child  of  his  sense  of 
weariness.    Weariness  is  but  a  sign  by  which  Na- 


200  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

ture  gives  notice  that  strength  is  disappearing, 
and  that  tissues  must  be  rebuilt  and  restored.  That 
is  a  heartless  taskmaker  indeed,  who  ignores  the 
law  of  fatigue  in  the  management  of  children. 

Weariness  seems  to  be  chronic  with  some  chil- 
dren. It  is  often  said  of  a  certain  child  or  of  a 
certain  man,  "  He  was  born  tired."  Such  people 
"are  more  probably  afflicted  with  laziness  which 
may  or  may  not  be  inherited.  Inquiry  will  show 
you,  however,  that  there  are  some  genuine  cases 
of  chronic  weariness  among  children,  due  possibly 
to  weak  constitutions,  to  lung  trouble,  to  heart 
affection,  to  nervous  depression,  to  lack  of  vital- 
ity, to  continued  overexertion,  to  lack  of  nourish- 
ing food,  to  lack  of  exercise,  to  worry,  or  to  some 
kindred  cause.  All  these  cases  appeal  at  once 
for  kinder  consideration  than  is  usually  given, 
but  healthy  children  make  the  same  appeal.  It 
is  no  more  important  that  the  former  be  made 
healthy  and  vigorous  than  that  the  latter  be  kept 
so.  Some  children  naturally  tire  more  quickly 
than  others.  It  ought  not  to  be  expected  that  all 
children  should  do  an  equal  amount  of  work  in 
the  same  time  any  more  than  that  all  should  be 
able  to  lift  equal  weights.  Work  done  represents 
just  so  much  strength  used.  If  all  must  do  the 
same  work,  it  means  that  some  must  be  under  a 
high  tension  and  that  others  must  be  doing  less 
than  they  are  able.  The  child  should  he  required 
to  do  no  more  than  that  tvhich  he  can  do  without 
overexertion,  and  which  will  gradually  develop  ad- 
ditional power  from  day  to  day.  Excessive  weari- 
ness at  any  time  means  that  the  work  has  been 


STAGES  OP   GROWTH,   FATIGUE   POINT.  201 

too  heavy  for  the  child  or  that  it  has  been  con- 
tinued too  long.  Frequent  rest  periods  and  vari- 
ety in  work  are  demanded  by  every  child. 

It  matters  little  whether  the  work  assigned  be 
physical  or  mental.  The  brain  tires  as  well  as 
any  other  part  of  the  body.  Some  kinds  of  brain 
work  are  more  exhaustive  than  others.  Statistics 
show  that  school  programs  which  ignore  the  law 
of  fatigue  are  most  wasteful  in  results.  Dr. 
W.  0.  Krohn  has  tested  about  forty  thousand 
children  with  reference  to  the  period  of  the  day 
when  memory  is  most  retentive.  He  found  that 
if  the  subjects  were  taken  indifferently  during  the 
first  school  hour  of  the  day,  the  average  retentive 
power  of  the  pupils  was  eighty-nine  per  cent;  for 
the  last  hour  of  the  morning,  sixty-three  per  cent; 
for  the  first  hour  of  the  afternoon,  seventy-five 
per  cent;  for  the  last  hour  in  the  afternoon,  sev- 
enty-seven per  cent.  This  shows  very  conclusively 
that  memory  is  twenty-six  per  cent  more  effective 
during  the  first  morning  hour  than  during  the 
last.  When  the  order  of  the  subjects  was  read- 
ing, grammar,  arithmetic,  geography,  and  history, 
the  average  was  eighty-ninCj  fifty-eight,  sixty- 
eight,  and  seventy-six  per  cent  respectively;  when 
the  order  was  arithmetic,  elementary  science,  read- 
ing, drawing,  geography,  and  history,  the  average 
was  eighty-nine,  seventy-nine,  eighty-two,  and 
eighty-six  per  cent.  This  last  arrangement  of 
studies  increases  the  retentive  power  of  the  aver- 
age pupil  over  that  of  the  hit-or-miss  program 
sixteen  per  cent  for  the  third  hour,  seven  per  cent 
for  the  fourth,  and  nine  per  cent  for  the  last  hour 


202  THE  "STUDY  OF  THE   CHILD. 

of  the  day.  In  other  words,  a  rational  arrange- 
ment of  the  school  program  increases  the  memory 
power  of  the  children  from  ten  to  twelve  per  cent 
for  the  day  as  a  whole — a  saving  of  one  year  in  ten 
in  the  school  life  of  the  child  by  this  means  alone. 
Accuracy  and  attention  tests  by  other  investigators 
show  approximately  the  same  results,  though  the 
inquiries  have  been  confined  within  narrow  limits. 
In  collating  data  on  these  questions  many  errors 
creep  in,  but  the  figures  are  sufficiently  definite 
to  show  how  fruitful  in  results  to  the  home  and 
the  school  further  inquiries  may  prove.  Of  course, 
the  program  problem  is  not  to  be  solved  by  mem- 
ory tests  alone.  Some  one  is  yet  to  do  the  chil- 
dren a  great  service  in  determining  specifically  the 
most  profitable  study  and  recitation  hours  for  the 
different  subjects. 

A  study  of  the  child  which  ignores  the  aesthetic 
instinct  would  be  incomplete.  Art  realizes  itself 
in  expression,  or,  possibly  better,  art  is  expression. 
Its  finer  forms  are  poetry,  music,  architecture, 
sculpture,  drawing,  and  painting.  In  their  earlier 
stages  they  evidently  served  a  utilitarian  purpose, 
or  at  most  served  to  give  tangible  expression  to 
commonplace  ideas.  The  beautiful  forms  in  na- 
ture kindled  impulses  to  imitate  them,  and  aes- 
thetic taste  slowly  developed,  becoming  more  dis- 
criminating and  more  refined  with  each  succeed- 
ing generation.  In  some  such  way  the  child 
begins  and  progresses  in  drawing  and  painting. 
The  first  or  the  hundredth  picture  may  be  very 
crude  indeed  to  us,  but  it  is  perfect  to  him,  for  it 
expresses  an  idea.     As  long  as  it  symbolizes  that 


STAGES  OF  GROWTH,  FATIGUE   POINT.  203 

to  him,  it  has  a  mission.  Eead  a  story  to  the  chil- 
dren, asking  them  all  to  draw  pictures  of  the  most 
interesting  parts  of  it.  The  collection  will  show 
the  points  in  the  story  most  vividly  affecting  them, 
and  will  probably  demonstrate  the  fact  that  the  in- 
tellectual rather  than  the  esthetic  activities  dic- 
tate the  kinds  of  pictures  they  draw.  These  draw- 
ings will  also  help  you  to  discover  the  indications 
of  artistic  promise  among  your  pupils.  It  is  prob- 
able, though,  that  in  most  of  the  children  the  emo- 
tions of  the  beautiful  are  aroused  through  music 
and  song  long  before  they  are  perceptibly  respond- 
ing to  color  and  form. 

The  harmony  of  knowledge  and  experience  is 
called  truth;  the  harmony  or  agreement  of  truth, 
as  ideal,  with  concrete  forms  is  called  beauty;  the 
harmony  of  truth  and  personal  action  is  called 
right.  The  intimate  relationship  of  the  beautiful 
with  the  true  and  the  good  makes  its  cultivation 
essential  to  the  highest  attainments  in  the  other 
two.  In  the  properly  educated  child  the  pleasures 
of  the  higher  senses  gradually  displace  those  of 
the  lower,  and  in  their  turn  they  become  subordi- 
nated to  the  pleasures  of  the  intellectual  life.  The 
fine  arts,  appealing  as  they  do  directly  to  'the  senses 
of  hearing  and  sight,  thus  become  a  powerful  fac- 
tor in  developing  the  finer  instincts  of  the  child's 
nature.  They  stimulate  the  imagination  and 
quicken  all  the  higher  activities  of  the  self.  For 
this  reason  every  child  should  be  surrounded  with 
beautiful  things  of  nature  and  of  art.  The  home, 
however  humble,  should  be  architecturally  a 
model,  inside  and  out;  its  furniture,  though  plain. 


204  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

should  be  in  good  taste,  both  in  design  and  ar- 
rangement; the  yard  should  be  beautified  by  orna- 
mental shrubs  and  trees,  flowering  plants  contrib- 
viting  their  wealth  of  color  to  the  scene.  Such  a 
home  costs  no  more  than  the  ungainly  looking 
boxes  which  many  people  set  up  in  barren  plots 
and  call  a  house  and  its  educative  effect  is  beyond 
estimate.  With  books  on  the  shelves  and  pictures 
on  the  walls  selected  with  the  same  taste  and  judg- 
ment, though  they  be  few,  the  ideal  home  environ- 
ment is  complete,  provided  always  that  a  conse- 
crated mother's  heart  warms  every  nook  and  cor- 
ner in  it.  What  is  desirable  in  the  home  is,  in  its 
way,  also  desirable  in  the  schoolhouse.  All  the 
forces  that  can  be  brought  to  conspire  for  the  cul- 
tivation of  the  esthetic  sense  will  contribute  also 
to  the  making  of  gentler,  truer  manhood.  Super- 
intendent Powell,  of  Washington,  says  that  since 
manual  training,  including  drawing,  clay  model- 
ing, and  simple  designing,  have  been  introduced 
into  the  city  schools,  many  ill-kept  and  degraded 
homes  have  been  revolutionized  both  in  appear- 
ance and  morals.  The  children  take  matters  into 
their  own  hands  and  become  the  schoolmasters  of 
their  parents,  transforming  repulsive  hovels  into 
cozy,  inviting  homes.  It  is  an  easy  step  from 
beauty  of  form  and  beauty  of  language  to  beauty 
of  thought  and  action,  for  they  are  always  mutual- 
ly strengthening  and  refining  each  other. 

The  unconscious  or  subconscious  influences 
that  alike  affect  the  child  and  the  man  are  not  less 
powerful  in  shaping  the  child's  tastes  and  char- 
acter than  those  coming  consciously  into  his  life. 


STAGES  OF  GROWTH,  FATIGUE  POINT.  205 

The  atmosphere  of  his  environment  permeates 
every  fiber  of  his  being,  giving  liim  tone  and  tem- 
perament that  long  years  of  effort  can  not  entirely 
overcome.  Waldstein  says  that  the  essentials  in 
education  are  "  about  the  same  among  all  civi- 
lized nations,  and  that  the  conscious  self  is  sub- 
stantially the  same  wherever  schools  and  colleges 
exist."  The  subconscious  self,  however,  which  is 
"  built  up  out  of  that  countless  multitude  of  sub- 
conscious impressions  from  the  surroundings,  cus- 
toms, language,  national  types,  physical  effects  of 
climate,  and  many  other  sources  is  widely  differ- 
ent." So  effective  and  yet  so  subtle  are  these 
subconscious  forces  in  infancy  and  childhood  in 
organizing  this  fundamental  self  that  doubtless 
much  is  attributed  to  heredity  which  really  owes 
its  existence  to  them.  Conscious  imitation  is  al- 
ways accounted  a  great  factor  in  education.  In 
these  earlier  years  unconscious  imitation  is  con- 
tinually reacting  upon  the  child  and  molding  him 
after  the  pattern  of  those  with  whom  he  constantly 
associates.  After  I  had  reached  manhood  I  trav- 
eled for  nearly  a  month  with  a  friend  who  lisped 
in  speaking  certain  words.  Afterward,  to  my 
surprise,  I  found  myself  lisping  a  little,  and  it 
was  years  before  I  was  entirely  free  from  it.  A 
distinguished  professor  in  a  Western  college 
stammers  slightly;  so  did  his  father,  and  so  does 
every  one  of  his  five  children.  There  seems  to 
be  no  physical  reason  for  it.  May  it  not  be  due 
wholly  to  subconscious  imitation?  One  of  the 
most  popular  teachers  of  English  in  the  West  tells 
me  that  she  is  constantly  fighting  the  influence  of 


206  THE  STUDY   OP  THE  CHILD. 

the  incorrect  language  of  her  pupils  upon  her  own 
language.  To  this  principle  is  due  the  fact  that  a 
child  who  reads  only  books  written  by  masters  of 
diction  unconsciously  perfects  himself  in  literary 
style.  For  all  practical  purposes,  a  few  years  of 
such  reading  is  worth  more  than  a  set  course  in 
rhetoric.  How  important,  then,  that  every  book 
put  into  the  hand  of  the  child,  whether  at  home  or 
in  the  schoolroom,  be  the  most  perfect  book  on 
the  subject  that  the  genius  of  man  has  created! 
The  relation  of  these  subconscious  elements  to 
knowledge  was  discussed  in  connection  with  the 
sensation  continuum  in  Chapter  VIII,  and  it  is 
hoped  that  their  function  in  education  has  been 
sufficiently  emphasized  in  several  places  to  pre- 
vent their  being  overlooked  by  any  reader  of  this 
book. 

The  function  of  sympathy  in  the  care  and  cul- 
ture of  children  has  been  recognized  ever  since 
Eve  named  her  firstborn,  but  its  unselfish  exercise 
is  not  so  general  as  its  antiquity  would  warrant  us 
to  expect.  The  social  instinct  finds  its  most  grate- 
ful satisfaction  in  sympathy,  in  the  consciousness 
of  being  the  object  of  disinterested  affection  and 
interest.  The  child  as  naturally  responds  to  sym- 
pathy as  does  the  plant  to  moisture  and  sunshine. 
Many  even  of  his  physical  impulses  await  the  en- 
couragement of  sympathy.  His  intellectual  and 
moral  impulses  still  more  fully  depend  upon  it. 
Whatever  contributes  to  the  child's  pleasure  at- 
tracts him,  and  its  unconscious  influence  upon  him 
is  assured.  The  greatest  direct  educative  force 
that  can  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the  child  is 


STAGES  OF  GROWTH.    FATIGUE   POINT.  207 

sympathy;  that  sympathy  which  counts  no  sacri- 
fice too  great  that  may  result  in  good  to  him;  that 
sympathy  which  prompts  an  exhaustive  study  of 
his  nature  and  of  the  various  forces  by  which  he 
may  attain  to  the  stature  of  the  highest  manhood; 
that  sympathy  that  goes  out  alike  to  the  rich  and 
the  poor,  to  the  favored  and  the  ill-favored,  to  the 
keen-witted  and  the  dullard,  to  the  faithful  and 
the  faithless;  that  sympathy  which  is  long-suffer- 
ing and  kind,  which  endureth  all  things,  which 
never  faileth.  Sympathy  is  the  mother  of  patience 
and  the  inventor  of  devices.  Its  touch  never  chills, 
its  resources  never  fail.  If  the  study  of  the  child 
does  not  quicken  affection  and  interest  for  it,  you 
are  not  called  to  its  service,  either  as  parent  or 
teacher.  If  you  are  not  moved  to  give  it  the  best 
of  your  life,  your  work  must  in  large  measure  be 
vain.  The  great  teachers  have  ever  been  men  and 
women  of  warm  hearts  and  of  unselfish  devotion. 


IV 


CHAPTER   XXin. 

CONCLUSIONS. 

If  this  book  accomplishes  its  purpose,  you 
are  now  fairly  well  prepared  to  enter  upon  the 
study  of  the  child,  for  what  has  been  said  is  in- 
tended simply  to  serve  as  an  introduction  to  child 
nature  and  child  problems.  Many  subjects  dis- 
cussed, as  well  as  others  not  mentioned  at  all,  are 
treated  quite  exhaustively  in  a  scientific  way  by 
expert  investigators,  and  their  assistance  will  be 
found  of  much  value  upon  any  line  which  may  at- 
tract you.  (See  the  brief  bibliography  on  pages 
211  to  215.) 

The  following  additional  topics  are  among 
those  worthy  a  full  chapter  in  any  book  on  the 
child:  The  religious  ideas  of  children,  the  sense  of 
humor  in  children,  the  indications  of  genius,  the 
tendency  to  deterioration,  curiosity  and  wonder, 
the  different  intellectual  activities  as  affected  by 
race,  reaction  time,  the  artistic  sense,  illusions, 
dreams,  hypnotic  suggestions,  the  origin  of  fear, 
the  child  as  the  child's  teacher,  the  pubescent  peri- 
od, the  effect  of  idleness,  mental  differences  of  the 
sexes,  prejudices  of  children,  spinal  curvature,  its 
causes  and  remedies,  children's  pranks,  children's 
ideas  of  number,  children's  drawings,  children  in 
208 


CONCLUSIONS.  209 

storyland,  books  for  children,  the  Sunday  after- 
noon problem,  the  poetry  and  music  adapted  to 
child  life,  the  function  of  fairy  tales,  the  true 
office  of  the  home. 

Local  clubs  for  child  study  are  wonderful  aids 
to  its  effectiveness.  Each  club  of  teachers  will 
find  the  interest  and  profit  greatly  enhanced  by 
enlisting  the  co-operation  of  specialists  within  its 
circle.  Physicians,  dentists,  oculists,  neurologists, 
nurses,  ministers,  psychologists,  scientists,  and  au- 
thors are  usually  pleased  to  be  asked  for  papers  or 
addresses  on  subjects  coming  within  the  range  of 
their  experience.  A  few  intelligent  mothers  will 
make  invaluable  members.  The  program  at  such 
club  meetings  should  include  reports  on  per- 
sonal observations  and  investigations.  It  should 
bear  a  logical  sequence  to  its  predecessor,  and  the 
discussions  should  not  drift  off  into  aimless  and 
profitless  generalities.  A  review  of  many  subjects 
as  outlined  in  this  book  will  make  a  good  year's 
work  for  a  club.  The  tendency  common  in  some 
clubs  to  spend  most  of  the  time  in  research  con- 
cerning abnormal  children  is  unAvise.  It  is  impera- 
tive that  the  normal  child  be  made  the  center  of 
the  study  and  that  he  be  the  model  to  which  all 
the  others  shall  be  conforming  in  their  develop- 
ment. It  is  equally  unwise  for  experiments  and 
tests  to  be  conducted  in  such  a  way  as  to  destroy 
the  naturalness  of  the  child  or  to  excite  self-con- 
sciousness unduly,  or  to  mention  little  peculiarities 
that  by  the  attention  thus  given  them  become  less 
easy  for  the  children  to  outgrow.  Follow  the 
methods  of  the  wise  physician  in  it  all. 


210  THE  STUDY   OF   THE   CHILD. 

Mothers'  clubs,  composed  exclusively  of  moth- 
ers, are  forming  in  some  localities.  The  zest  with 
which  they  enter  upon  the  study  of  these  problems 
shows  that  the  homes  of  our  land  as  well  as  the 
schoolrooms  are  soon  to  receive  the  direct  bene- 
fit of  this  great  movement.  The  ideal  condition 
in  education  is  to  be  realized  when  intelligent 
teachers  and  intelligent  mothers  are  cordially  co- 
operating in  the  training  of  the  children. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY. 


A  COMPLETE  list  of  books  and  of  articles  on  the 
child  and  directly  related  subjects  would  itself 
make  a  small  volume.  The  following  named  will 
be  found  of  great  value  to  the  general  as  well  as  to 
the  special  student: 

Apperception.  Karl  Lange.  D.  C.  Heath 
&  Co. 

Body  and  Mind.  Henry  Maudsley.  D.  Apple- 
ton  &  Co. 

The  Growth  of  the  Brain.  H.  B.  Donaldson. 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

Boyhood  of  Great  Men.  J.  G.  Edgar.  Harper 
Brothers. 

Brain  Work  and  Overwork.  H.  C.  Wood,  Jr. 
P.  Blakiston,  Son  &  Co. 

Children's  Ways,  James  Sully.  D.  Appleton 
&Co. 

The  Child  and  Childhood  in  Folk  Thought. 
Alexander  F.  Chamberlain.     Macmillan  &  Co. 

Children  of  the  Poor.  Jacob  A.  Riis.  Charles 
Scribner's  Sons. 

Studies  of  Childhood.  James  Sully.  D.  Ap- 
pleton &  Co. 

211 


212  THE  STUDY  OP  THE  CHILD. 

The  Child,  its  Spiritual  Nature.  Henry  K. 
Lewis.    Macmillan  &  Co. 

Children's  Rights.  Kate  D.  Wiggin.  Hough- 
ton, Mifflin  &  Co. 

Child  Study  Monthly.  W.  D.  Krohn  and  Al- 
fred Bayliss,  editors,  Chicago. 

First  Three  Years  of  Childhood.  Bernard 
Perez.    E.  L.  Kellogg  &  Co. 

The  Study  of  Children.  Francis  Warner.  Mac- 
millan &  Co. 

Dependent,  Defective,  and  Delinquent  Classes. 
Charles  E.  Henderson.    D.  C.  Heath  &  Co. 

The  Education  of  the  Central  Nervous  System. 
Eeuben  P.  Halleck.    Macmillan  &  Co. 

The  Eyesight  and  How  to  Care  for  it.  Charles 
H.  Burnett.    P.  Blakiston,  Son  &  Co. 

The  Family,  an  Historical  and  Social  Study. 
Charles  F.  Thwing.    Lee  &  Shepard. 

Habit  and  Instinct.  Lloyd  Morgan.  Edwin 
Arnold,  London. 

Hearing  and  How  to  Keep  it.  Charles  H. 
Burnett.     P.  Blakiston,  Son  &  Co. 

Heredity.    Th.  Eibot.    D.  Appleton  &  Go. 

Hereditary  Genius.  Francis  Galton.  D.  Ap- 
pleton &  Co. 

The  Hygiene  of  the  Eye  in  School.  Hermann 
Cohn.     Simpkin,  Marshall  &  Co.,  London. 

The  Intellectual  and  Moral  Development  of 
the  Child.    G-.  Compayre.    D.  Appleton  &  Co. 

The  Jukes.  E.  L.  Dugdale.  C.  P.  Putnam's 
Sons. 

Juvenile  Offenders.  W.  D.  Morrison.  D.  Ap- 
pleton &  Co. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY.  213 

Mental  Affections  in  Cliildliood  and  Youth. 
Langdon  Down.    J.  A.  Churchill,  London. 

•  Mentally  Deficient  Children.     G.  E.  Shuttle- 
worth.    H.  K.  Lewis,  London. 

Mentally  Feeble-minded  Children.  Fletcher 
Beach.    J.  A.  Churchill,  London. 

Mental  Development  of  the  Child.  W.  Preyer. 
D.  Appleton  &  Co. 

The  Moral  Instruction  of  Children.  Felix 
Adler.    D.  Appleton  &  Co. 

Methods  of  Mind  Training.  Catharine  Aiken. 
Harper  Brothers. 

The  ISTorthwestern  Journal  of  Education.  J. 
H.  Miller,  editor.    J.  H.  Miller,  Lincoln,  Nebraska. 

The  Pedagogical  Seminary,  vols,  i,  ii,  and  iii. 
Valuable  articles  on  nearly  every  phase  of  the 
subject.  G.  Stanley  Hall,  editor.  J.  H.  Orpha, 
Worcester,  Massachusetts. 

The  Physiology  of  the  Senses.  John  G.  Mc- 
Kendrick  and  William  Snodgrass.  Charles  Scrib- 
ner's  Sons. 

Practical  Lessons  in  Psychology.  W.  0.  Krohn. 
The  Werner  Company. 

Proceedings  of  National  Educational  Associa- 
tion. Papers  in  child  study  and  other  departments 
in  volumes  for  1894,  1895,  1896,  and  1897. 

Psychology  and  Psychic  Culture.  Eeuben  P. 
Halleck.    American  Book  Company. 

Psychology.     John  Dewey.     Harper  Brothers. 

Eesponsibility  in  Mental  Disease.  Henry 
Maudsley.    D.  Appleton  &  Co. 

The  Subconscious  Self.  Louis  Waldstein. 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 


214  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  CHILD. 

Symbolic  Education.  Susan  E.  Blow.  D.  Ap- 
pleton  &  Co. 

The  Mind  of  the  Child,  vol.  i.  The  Senses 
and  the  Will,  vol.  ii.  Development  of  the  Intel- 
lect.    W.  Preyer.     D.  Appleton  &  Co. 

Studies  in  Education.  Earl  Barnes.  Leland 
Stanford  Junior  University. 

Studies  in  Home  and  Child  Life.  Mrs.  S.  M. 
I.  Henry.     Fleming  H.  Eevell  Company. 

Transactions  of  the  Illinois  Society  for  Child 
Study.     The  Werner  Company. 

Valuable  articles  on  the  subject  of  child  study 
have  been  published  recently  in  nearly  all  the 
great  educational  periodicals.  The  following 
papers  by  Oscar  Chrisman,  Ph.  D.,  of  the  State 
Normal  School  of  Kansas,  will  repay  perusal:  Se- 
cret Language  of  Children,  Science,  vol.  xxii,  p. 
303,  and  vol.  xxiii,  p.  18;  The  Hearing  of  Chil- 
dren, Pedagogical  Seminary,  vol.  ii,  p.  397;  Child 
Study,  a  New  Department  of  Education,  Forum, 
vol.  xvi,  p.  728;  One  Year  with  a  Little  Girl, 
Educational  Review,  vol.  ix,  p.  52;  Children's  Se- 
cret Language,  Child  Study  Monthly,  vol.  ii,  p. 
202;  How  a  Story  affected  a  Child,  Child  Study 
Monthly,  vol.  ii,  p.  650;  The  Hearing  of  School 
Children,  Northwestern  Monthly,  vol.  viii,  p.  31; 
Motor  Control:  its  Nature  and  Place  in  the  Phys- 
ical and  Psychical  Life  of  the  Child,  State  Normal 
IMonthly,  vol.  x,  p.  3;  The  Secret  Language  of 
Cliildren,  Northwestern  Monthly,  vol.  viii,  pp. 
187,  375,  550;  Exceptionals,  State  Normal  Month- 
Iv,  vol.  X,  p.  51 ;  The  Eeligious  Ideas  of  a  Child, 
Child  Study  Monthly,  vol  iii,  p.  510;  Paidology, 


BIBLIOGRAPHY.  215 

the  Science  of  the  Child,  Educational  Eeview,  vol. 
XV,  p.  269;  The  Kesults  of  Child  Study,  Educa- 
tion, vol.  xviii,  p.  323;  The  Secret  Language  of 
Children,  Century  Magazine,  vol.  Ivi,  p.  54;  Re- 
ligious Periods  in  Child  Growth,  Educational  Ee- 
Review,  vol.  xvi,  p.  39. 


THE    END. 


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